Finding Joy in Your Long-Distance Relationship
by Taaroko
Summary: Sequel to "Worlds Apart". For now, this doesn't really have its own plot; I'm just riding on canon S4/Angel S1 and mainly writing Buffy and Angel's interactions and however they impact the episodes. Enjoy and review!
1. Geographically Challenged

So, let the "Worlds Apart" sequel-ish-ness begin! My inspiration for this first installment was that crossover phone non-conversation between Buffy and Angel in canon "The Freshman"/"City Of". It got me thinking. If this were the "Worlds Apart" universe, there's no way Angel would have hung up without saying anything.

Disclaimer: I'm not Joss, so they aren't mine.

Now then, if you have already read "Worlds Apart", you are cleared to read this fic. Enjoy!

* * *

"Hello?" said Buffy.

"Buffy."

"Angel!" Despite how disgruntling her first week of college had been so far, she couldn't help feeling her spirits lift at the sound of his voice. "You're still coming here for the weekend, right?" she asked, feeling suddenly apprehensive. She didn't know how she'd be able to get through the next couple of days without having that to look forward to.

"Of course," he said, and she could hear his smile in the way his tone softened. "I can't wait."

She smiled as well. "Me either." But then she frowned. "Why'd you call the home phone? Did you lose the number to my dorm?"

"What? No, I tried there first. Your roommate answered. She said you were out."

Buffy puffed out her cheeks and exhaled loudly at the thought of her overly perky, obsessive-compulsive roommate.

"Everything okay?" he asked.

"I don't know," she said. "I mean, there's nothing end-of-the-world-y, or anything, it's just…"

"College life not exactly what you expected so far?"

"Okay, it is _not_ fair that you can even do that near-telepathic perceptive thing over the phone," she said with a falsely indignant pout.

"Tell me what's up," he said.

"Oh, just a lot of stuff. For starters, I never really thought college would be so big. It makes me feel so tiny and it doesn't help that I can't find anything without a map yet. Plus, there are all these clubs and societies and things that I don't know anything about, but I feel like I'm the only one who's lost. Willow and Oz are both completely at home already."

"How are your classes?"

"They're okay, mostly. We haven't done a whole lot in any of them yet—pretty much just looked at the syllabus. But I'm definitely never leaving registration this late again."

"What happened?"

"I tried to get into this film class without realizing that I had to be signed up for it before actually attending the class, and the professor decided that publicly humiliating me would be less distracting to the rest of the students than just asking me to leave. I think he must be related to Snyder."

"None of the other professors are like that, are they?"

Buffy smiled at the mixture of anger and worry in his tone. "No. A couple are pretty strict, but they're not bad. It's all just kind of overwhelming right now, and not because of classes. Xander's still off on his see-the-country road trip, so my supply of goofy, mood-lightening friendly humor has dried up. When I was getting my books, I nearly concussed the Psych TA, who only remembers me as 'Willow's friend'. And then yesterday, I went to see Giles, except that he had a lady-friend from England over, which resulted in major awkwardness, and I came home today to find that Mom decided to use my bedroom as a storage space for her gallery stuff, but she doesn't even think there's anything wrong with that because she 'didn't move anything'. Then, on top of all that regular life unfun, I also lost a fight to a vamp last night—probably the vamp who turned this nice freshman guy who was gonna be my equally confused study buddy for Psych."

"You lost the fight? Are you hurt? Do you want me to come sooner so I can help you take them out?"

"No, you don't have to—not that I don't appreciate the gallant offer. She messed up my arm a little, but my dignity took the worst of the beating. It was only one regular vamp with an intense evil upperclassman complex, plus her team of seriously lame minions. I can take 'em. I was just off my game last night 'cause of all this stuff and then having to stake the one new almost-friend I made." She sighed. "I miss you."

"I miss you too."

"So. I told you about my moderately craptastic week. Now it's your turn." When he didn't reply immediately, her heart sank a little. "I'm guessing yours wasn't great either."

"I couldn't save the girl in Doyle's vision," he said.

Buffy opened her mouth to speak, then closed it. Suddenly all of her woes seemed trivial, and yet he had listened to and cared about all of them, not minimizing their significance or attempting to supplant them with his own. She felt a rush of affection for him that was so strong it was almost painful. "I love you."

"Not feeling particularly deserving of it at the moment."

"What happened?" she asked, wishing she didn't have to wait until Friday evening before she could act on her impulse to hug him tightly.

"She found out what I am, and she ran. By the time I could follow her, it was too late."

"You can't save everyone, Angel."

"But Tina was someone I was _supposed_ to save."

"What killed her? Vampire?"

"Yeah."

"Did you get him?"

"Yeah."

"Then you just saved all the people he would have killed in the future. That could be anywhere from one person to thousands. I'm sorry you couldn't save Tina, but maybe all those future victims were the ones you were really meant to save. Their lives don't mean any less just because you don't know who they are."

"I know one of them," he said.

"Really?"

"Cordelia."

"What?" said Buffy, surprised. "What's she doing in L.A.?"

"Trying to be an actress."

Buffy tried and failed to suppress a snort. "The talent show sophomore year didn't cure her of that ambition?"

"Guess not."

"How did she wind up as almost vamp food?"

"The vampire was Russell Winters. Powerful businessman with a lot of connections. He used his ties to the entertainment world to find and prey on struggling young actresses who have no one to turn to."

"And you staked him?" said Buffy admiringly.

"No, I walked into the thirty-second floor boardroom of his office building in the middle of a staff meeting an hour ago and kicked him through the window."

Buffy grinned. "Okay, you do know that when you pull off a kill that awesome, you're allowed to have a bragging tone when you tell me about it."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"How's Wes?"

Angel made a noise that made Buffy think he was probably grimacing. "Right now he's going through this phase where he rides a motorcycle and wears a lot of leather. He says it creates the right image for a demon hunter."

"Uh-huh," said Buffy slowly. "Should I be amused or disturbed?"

"Yes."

She giggled. "He hasn't been stealing your leather jackets to make his shiny new wardrobe possible, has he?"

"No, he bought his own."

"Good. I'm the only one who's allowed to steal your clothes."

Angel chuckled. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Have you told him that there was nothing wrong with all those crisp suits he used to wear, except maybe the amount of starch he was using on them?"

"Doyle's already making enough fun of him about that for the both of us. He'll wear him down eventually."

"Pfft. Doyle's one to talk, the hideous clothes he wears," Buffy scoffed. "You know, I'm suddenly wondering if your good dress sense is actually good dress sense or just luck, since everything goes with your favorite color anyway."

He laughed. "You caught me. Although a guy does tend to get an idea of what works and what doesn't after two and a half centuries," he said. "Especially when the whole point for more than half of that time was literally to dress to kill," he added ruefully.

"True," said Buffy. Upon glancing at the clock on the kitchen wall, she sighed. "Well, I should probably go make another attempt to figure campus out so that I can be remotely the savvy college girl who is capable of showing her boyfriend where everything is when he comes to visit, like I was planning to be."

"If it helps, I'd be just as happy to spend the weekend with lost and overwhelmed Buffy as I'd be with savvy college girl Buffy."

She smiled. "It does."

"Good."

"Thanks for calling. And for just…being you. That was exactly what I needed."

"Anytime," he said warmly. "I love you."

"I love you too. I'll see you on Friday."

* * *

Okay, originally I didn't have a final author's note, but now I'm writing one. One reviewer voiced concerns over the fact that Tina still died despite the fact that Angel has known Doyle for months now in this version and Wes was helping him too, and so forth. If this were a proper sequel, I would have actually written that part out (and I might go back and do that if my muse feels like it). However, despite the different circumstances, I would have kept the end result the same, with Tina dying. I think that was a very important thing to happen so early in Angel's L.A. experience. There are plenty of ways Tina, who was extremely paranoid and skittish, would have become suspicious enough of Angel to go running even without seeing Doyle's note about her on that table. For instance, she could have opened Angel's fridge and seen all the blood in it and freaked out, or something like that. Wesley would be on his "rogue demon hunter" kick at this point, which, while confined to the L.A. area in this version of events, still means he doesn't necessarily spend the majority of his time hanging out with Angel, so he easily could have missed the whole thing with Tina.


	2. Cher Time

(This may be my favorite chapter title ever, just so you know. In case you haven't seen the episode recently, it's a play on Kathy's catchphrase: "It's share time now!") Okay, here we go with "Living Conditions". Which would be very different if Buffy were still dating Angel. "Lonely Hearts", the _Angel_ counterpart episode, on the other hand, probably wouldn't change a whole lot, except that Angel wouldn't be one of the lonely hearts involved. So unless I decide that the addition of leather-clad Wesley to the events of that episode is worth writing, I probably won't do anything with that one. Either way, I've got the timeline of the two episodes so that "Lonely Hearts" is set slightly after "Living Conditions", which means that Doyle's vision about that club wouldn't come until after the events of this chapter. Oh, also, this is set two weeks after chapter one. In the intervening time, Angel spent the first weekend in Sunnydale (as per the plan in chapter one), and Buffy spent the second in L.A. This will probably be a recurring pattern.

With that, I give you your new chapter.

* * *

Nothing like a Cher song on endless repeat to kill the afterglow from a weekend in L.A. with Angel, Buffy thought irritably as the chorus of "Believe" seemed to etch itself into her skull. She began plotting ways of destroying Kathy's mini stereo while making it look like an accident. Or maybe she could just get her some headphones and pass them off as a new roommate gift.

…Or maybe she could just bypass the situation altogether and crash at Angel's Sunnydale apartment instead. As appealing as that idea was (though far less appealing than it would be if Angel still lived there full-time), it would also be the equivalent of surrendering the dorm to Kathy. And that was something she refused to do.

But that didn't mean she had to sit here through another fifty replays of this stupid song. So, after one failed passive-aggressive hint that maybe Kathy could pick something else to listen to, she got up with the idea of heading out on patrol. A very lengthy and thorough patrol, just to be on the safe side.

†

By the next day, things with Kathy had become even less fun, to the point that Buffy had decided to employ the avoidance strategy. Spotting Kathy across the dining hall, she immediately put this strategy into effect and dodged sideways into the line.

"Ex-boyfriend or loan shark?" came a voice from behind her.

Slightly confused, she turned around. The speaker was a rather cute, puppy-eyed sort of guy with whom Buffy thought she might have attempted flirting if she weren't already very spoken for by the man who, among many other things, had been the undefeated champion of puppy-eyed-ness for two and a half centuries. "Excuse me?" she asked.

"The person you're hiding from," he clarified.

"Oh," she said. "Neither." She didn't want to admit that she was avoiding her roommate, so she didn't elaborate. "And I just cut in front of you," she realized, embarrassed.

"No, stay," he said, smiling. "Stay, I'll watch your back."

Over the course of the friendly conversation that ensued, Buffy learned that the guy's name was Parker Abrams and that he seemed to be a more than usually helpful upperclassman—though she wasn't sure she appreciated his suggestions for ways to abuse her dining card.

Having turned away from the line with her loaded food tray, Buffy was craning her neck to try and see where Willow and Oz were sitting when Parker spoke again. "Hey, I like your ring," he said.

"Huh? Oh, thanks," said Buffy, briefly glancing at her Claddagh ring and smiling.

"Is it like a chastity ring or something?" he asked.

If she hadn't been so preoccupied with looking for her friends, Buffy might have noticed a certain undercurrent in his tone that should have immediately put her on her guard. In her distracted state, however, the only thing she was able to appreciate was the irony of his wildly incorrect assumption. With difficulty, she repressed a very unladylike snort.

"Um, no," she managed to get out after a couple of seconds, though her voice was a little choked. "It's actually an Irish wedding ring." While that wasn't strictly what it was in her case, she knew what it had symbolized for both of them when Angel put it on her left ring finger on her seventeenth birthday, and that she had reaffirmed and sealed it by doing the same with the ring she gave him in April.

"What, you're not married, are you?" said Parker incredulously.

"Not in the eyes of the law," said Buffy vaguely, having finally spotted Willow, Oz—and, surprisingly, Xander. "A-ha! There they are." She turned to smile at Parker. "Well, it was nice to meet you."

"You too," he said. "Maybe I'll see you around campus."

"Yeah," she said, rolling her eyes in an amused, self-depreciating fashion. "With any luck, I won't be able to count all of the people I know here on one hand for much longer."

†

If Kathy had already been irritating, it was nothing to how bad she was now. For some reason, Buffy hadn't fully appreciated exactly how maddening the music or the flossing or the chipperness or the hundred other things were before. But now she did, and that plus a ketchup-splattered sweater and being sleep deprived due to some seriously disturbing nightmares was a recipe for extremely cranky Buffy.

It was with great reluctance that she returned to her dorm that evening (having completely finished all the homework that was due tomorrow and some that wasn't due for a week, asked Giles if he needed help with anything, and even volunteered to do the heavy lifting for the Dingoes when they were getting set up at the Bronze). Upon arrival, she found the upperclassman boy from the dining hall yesterday chatting with Kathy and half-lying across the end of her bed, the oh-so-fun song playing yet again in the background.

"Uh, I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" she said. If this guy—Parker, was it?—liked Kathy, she might have to revise her initial impression that he was normal and sane. Then again, if they started dating, it might mean Buffy would get the dorm room to herself every now and then, and she would finally be able to put Operation Stereo Sabotage into action.

"Oh, no," said Parker, getting up and walking over to her. "I just stopped by to say 'hey', and to bring you these." He pulled a box of plastic baggies out of his backpack and handed them to her. "You know, to maximize your dining hall exports. They're heavy-duty."

Buffy felt rather bemused that he had gotten her anything at all after such a brief acquaintance, but plastic baggies were such an unconventional, everyday item sort of gift that they didn't really seem to land in the forbidden zone where she'd have to politely refuse and firmly explain that she already had a boyfriend. No, plastic baggies were more of a creative inside joke friend gift. Or something. "Plus freezer-guard," she said, reading the box. "Thanks. These should come in ha—"

"Parker was just going to leave his number and go," Kathy cut in, moving to stand close to Parker, "but we started talking, and time just flew!"

"Great!" said Buffy with very false enthusiasm. She then had to endure twenty nauseating seconds of the two of them exchanging jokey banter over hockey, which had evidently been their main topic of discussion.

†

That was it. There was no other way; Buffy was just going to have to kill her. She couldn't understand why Willow didn't seem to be entirely on board with her about this. It made perfect sense. Kathy was evil, and therefore she needed to be slain. The toenail clipping and the music and the flossing and the _music_ and the food labeling and dear God in _heaven_ if she heard that song _one more time_, she was going to smash that stereo through the wall. Oh, and Kathy also happened to be a demon.

But it was fine. She was going to handle this. And she didn't want Giles's help this time. Kathy wasn't the only demon and she didn't know how many more might be hiding in the woods apart from the one that had attacked them, so it might be too dangerous to get him involved. Nope, she was calling Angel.

†

Angel drove more quickly than he usually would on a trip to Sunnydale. Thankfully, Doyle hadn't had any visions recently, so he was able to make this unplanned trip without a schedule conflict. It wasn't that he was worried about the demons Buffy had mentioned, it was that he was worried about Buffy. She had sounded very unlike herself on the phone; unreasonable and snappish and blunt—though none of that had been directed at him, as she seemed to think he was the only one who would listen to her. Most worrying were the nightmares she described and the way she had seemed to be more interested in slaying her roommate for the annoying little roommate things she did, rather than because she was a demon.

†

Buffy paced restlessly back and forth inside Angel's apartment, where she had told him to meet her. She had it all worked out. She would handle Kathy on her own, but then Angel could help her with the other one(s) in the woods. Yes. It was a good plan. And Willow and the others would know she was right about it all and they'd thank her for saving the day and vanquishing the evil that was Kathy Newman.

The indefinable sense of Angel's nearness grew steadily until it began to concentrate, as usual, in the area around her scar, shortly after which the apartment door opened and Angel walked inside. He barely managed to close the door behind him and say her name in greeting before she had launched herself at him and engaged him in a rather enthusiastic and aggressive hello kiss. At first, he seemed too surprised to react, but he quickly recovered and began to respond.

Kathy and the other demons promptly dropped down a rank on Buffy's list of priorities. She wanted to keep kissing Angel, but he gripped her firmly by her upper arms and broke away. "Not that I'm not happy to see you too," he said, holding her at a few inches' distance, "but shouldn't we worry about these demons first?"

"They'll still be there in a few hours," she said unconcernedly, before pushing him back against the door and resuming the kiss. He was definitely not participating as much as she was at the moment, but she was determined to change that.

He seemed to give in just a little, pulling her closer to him, and her thoughts began drifting in directions she usually tried to avoid. Ever since graduation day, the scar from when Angel had bitten her had not only enabled her able to sense him, but it had been extremely sensitive to his touch. One of her favorite things was when he kissed her there, which he frequently did. But sometimes she wished he wouldn't stop with kissing. She was sure some part of him wanted to go farther than that again too, because of the way he would occasionally graze the spot with his blunt human teeth. She also remembered very clearly how hard he had bitten down and how hungrily he had drunk mouthful after mouthful of her blood. He wouldn't have done that if part of him didn't want it very, very much.

Until now, the idea of repeating the experience—though preferably _not_ to the point that it would require her to be hospitalized—was something she had never allowed herself to dwell on. But none of her reasons for avoiding the subject, even in her own mind, seemed to matter at the moment. Not the horrified reaction Angel would probably have if she brought it up, not the uncomfortable questions and looks she might get from everyone else if they found out, and not even how very messed up the idea of a Slayer _wanting_ a vampire to bite her seemed. She suddenly couldn't care less about any of that.

All that mattered was that she wanted to get back that indescribable feeling of sharing her blood—her _life_—with him, of her life flowing into him and making him stronger and warmer. She had almost worked up the courage to offer it the weekend before last when she had discovered the partially healed bullet wounds in his chest and back, but she hadn't been able to get the words out.

Not this time.

Though Angel still wasn't matching her enthusiasm in this make-out session, the disparity was much less than it had been at first. Finally, he capitulated, seized her by the arms again, and spun them around so that she was the one trapped against the door. She grinned triumphantly against his mouth and started fumbling for the buttons on his shirt. A frisson of anticipation went through her when his lips moved away from hers. When they reached her scar, she wound the fingers of one hand through the short hair on the back of his head and pressed him closer. "Bite me, Angel," she said breathlessly.

Angel stopped dead. "What?" A split second later, he was standing a full yard away from her, staring at her in alarm. "No."

"Oh, come on," she said imploringly, stepping closer to him, but he retreated, maintaining the distance.

"It could _kill_ you, Buffy," he said, as if she had gone completely insane.

Well, she thought dryly, he was certainly living up to her expectations of what his reaction would be. "But it won't," she said aloud. "It didn't last time, even though you were weak and delirious." She huffed impatiently before continuing. "Angel, I've wanted you to for months. And I know you have, too. I'm pretty sure you've wanted to way longer than that, actually. But of course you think that makes you an evil monster, so you were never going to say anything, and I couldn't work up the nerve to be the one to mention it first, so it might never have been mentioned at all, which would have been stupid!" She concluded this progressively less controlled rant with an angry stomp of her foot, and then stood there breathing heavily and glaring at him.

"So what changed?" said Angel warily. But then he froze. His eyes, still locked with hers, widened in disbelieving horror. "No," he breathed. He moved closer, as if that would help him see something he had missed.

"What?" asked Buffy, nonplussed, but he didn't seem to hear her.

"She didn't," he muttered. He broke eye contact and stepped back again. Then, to Buffy's delighted surprise, he let out a low, rumbling growl, and his face transformed. She didn't think it'd be so easy to get him to agree!

"I'm going to kill her!" he snarled, his expression twisted with fury and his fists clenched.

"Huh?" said Buffy, confused and disappointed. "Now? Kill who?"

"Come with me," he said, reaching for her hand and moving towards the door.

Buffy pouted and stood her ground obstinately. "Don't think you're getting out of this conversation so easily."

A flicker of apprehension disrupted the rage on his face. "Fine," he said reluctantly. "We'll talk about it later. Now come on."

†

All the way to Buffy's dorm, Angel felt like he was suspended in some kind of horrific nightmare—but not because of their conversation. In fact, at the moment he was trying very hard to avoid thinking about that at all. No, it was what he had seen when he looked into Buffy's eyes. Or, to be precise, what he _hadn't_ seen. The light and love and brightness that normally shone so strongly out of them were all but gone now. As were her inhibitions. And her patience. And her gentleness. And so many of the other things he loved most about her. The only possible explanation he could think of was that something must have happened to her soul. This theory tallied with what had happened in her dreams—the part about some kind of light getting sucked out of her, which, all combined with her extreme reactions against her roommate, left him with a suspect list of one.

Knowing all too well what it was to be soulless, the idea of Buffy in such a condition was just about the most horrible thing Angel could imagine. Everything in him revolted against it. Of course, it helped that her soul didn't seem to be _completely_ gone, and that she was still alive and human, but all the same, it gave him a much clearer picture of what she might be like as a vampire than he had ever wanted to have. Which made her decision to bring up that particular topic much more painful than it might have been otherwise.

They reached the campus, parked, and started walking towards Stevenson Hall. Angel was taking such large strides that Buffy had to jog to keep up with him. It was only with difficulty that he managed to keep his features human while they were in public. In less than five minutes, they reached Buffy's room. Angel opened the door and strode inside to find a distinctly not-human-smelling girl sitting on the bed across the room from Buffy's, reading a paperback book.

"So you're the demon roommate, huh?" he said in a falsely cordial voice. "Buffy's told me so much about you." He heard Buffy close the door behind them.

Kathy looked a bit startled. "Uh, great," she said. By her expression, he could tell that she knew he wasn't human either. She put the book down on the lamp table and stood up. "And you must be the L.A. boyfriend."

Angel gave her an entirely mirthless smile. "Yeah. That's me." He moved closer. "What did you do to Buffy's soul?" he demanded without further preamble.

"Nothing!" said Kathy unconvincingly, backing away.

Not interested in playing this game and no longer bothering to keep his demonic features hidden, he seized her by the throat and slammed her against the wall. She snarled and tried to fight back, but her attempts were useless.

"In case I've never mentioned it before, Angel," said Buffy, who was still standing near the door, "I just wanted to let you know that it's _really_ hot when you do that."

"Thanks," he said, not taking his eyes off Kathy.

"Wow, Buffy, I knew _you_ were disturbed, but I had no idea your boyfriend was a psycho vampire," said Kathy.

"You know, since I'm pretty sure that killing you would fix whatever you did, I think you might want to answer my question while you still can," said Angel, tightening his grip.

"Jeez, relax! I'm just borrowing it, okay?" she choked.

"Without even asking!" said Buffy, annoyed.

"You're going to give it back right_ now_," Angel growled, "or I'm going to start pulling off your fingers and feeding them to you."

Behind them, Buffy snickered. "Finger food! Don't forget to label it first, Kath."

"If I give it back, then they're going to drag me back to my home dimension!" Kathy protested.

"I don't think you really want to stay in this one," said Angel. When she only growled at him, he grabbed her right index finger in his free hand and started twisting.

"Okay, okay, fine, I'll give it back!" she said, sounding panicked.

He smiled grimly in satisfaction and released her.

"This would never have happened if they'd just given me a _normal_ roommate!" she complained, rubbing her throat.

"Come here, Buffy," said Angel in a much calmer and gentler voice than he had used so far, stretching out a hand to her. She skipped forward and took it, glaring daggers at Kathy, who scowled reproachfully before beginning to speak in a language neither Buffy nor Angel recognized. After a few moments of this, some force seemed to come over her, making her mouth open wide, and a wispy white glowing substance came out of it and returned to Buffy. Once it was over, both of them staggered and gasped.

Barely a second later, the door burst open, and in walked a cloaked demon with glowing eyes and orange skin. Kathy let out a noise of fright and hid her face from him. Buffy and Angel watched and listened in mild bewilderment as the two demons had a conversation in their language. Even though they couldn't understand a word, they could have sworn that it sounded like the exchange of an angry father and his petulant child. In the end, the cloaked demon said something that sounded very final and waved his arm, which caused a swirling vortex to appear in the middle of the room, right between Kathy and Angel. Buffy grabbed Angel and pulled him away from it, while Kathy teetered on the edge for a few seconds, then fell in with a scream. Satisfied, the cloaked demon followed without so much as a glance in Buffy and Angel's direction, and the vortex disappeared.

Angel, his face human again, looked around at Buffy, who was staring at the spot where Kathy had disappeared. Then she looked up at him, and what he saw made the last of his worry fade. She was back to normal. He smiled in relief, but she didn't seem to share the emotion. Slowly, her eyes widened in mortification and her entire face turned an impressive shade of scarlet. He knew she was thinking about everything she had said at the apartment.

"Angel—that—I," she stammered, but then, with a gulp and a squeak, she bolted for the door. However, she had barely reached it when she crashed headlong into Xander and Oz, who had arrived just barely too late to offer backup. Angel couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the entire situation.

* * *

Holy crap, nearly-soulless Buffy may be hilarious, but she is also terrifying. Among other things, it's much easier for me to keep the onscreen stuff with her and Angel comfortably PG when she is in full possession of her soul. But there was pretty much no way normal Buffy would have the nerve to bring up the taboo subject, and that needed to be brought up. Now then. There's Parker, who would naturally be much more ignored by a Buffy who isn't on rebound. And, okay, honestly, my favorite part of this chapter was that bit about Buffy wanting to kill Kathy and smash her stereo through the wall. Also, hey, looks like these chapters are going to have less predictable lengths than those of "Worlds Apart". Fun.


	3. Bite or Avoid

Okay, part of the reason why these chapters keep coming so fast is that I feel like I have to keep up with the episodes I'm watching as I continue my marathon through _Buffy_ S4/_Angel_ S1. Also, it somehow never occurred to me how much more Buffy/Angel stuff there would be to write at this point on the timeline, simply because there was none in canon. Title of the chapter is from an Angel quote in "She".

* * *

After declaring their intentions of heading back to their respective apartments, Cordelia and Doyle left the office. The Tahlmer was toast and Angel wasn't under arrest, but they weren't interested in going out to celebrate. Which left Angel free to not be sociable, much to his relief. He watched Doyle open the door for Cordelia, and then the way she hesitated and grudgingly thanked him before stepping through it, nose in the air. Doyle would probably be happy to know that her heart rate had just increased, but Angel decided to let him pick up on the signs for himself—if they ever reached a point where non-vampiric senses would be able to detect them.

"Are you sure this Officer Lockley isn't going to be problematic?" asked Wesley.

"She said she wanted to start fresh. No secrets," said Angel.

"And considering how many things you plan to keep secret from her anyway, that should go swimmingly."

"Well, I think the main thing to worry about, now that a cop knows about us, is that nobody here actually has a license to be a private detective."

"Yes, I rather thought that might become a problem. You're the only one who needs one, really, seeing as those two work for you and my focus tends towards hunting demons rather than helping the people in Doyle's visions. But this could prove somewhat difficult to solve for someone with no legal identity."

"Yeah, I should probably do something about that."

"You realize that if you manage to get that sorted out, you'd be eligible to apply for other types of licenses as well."

A faint smile appeared on Angel's face. "That'd be something." Then his smile widened briefly and he got to his feet and looked towards the door.

"Company at this hour?" said Wesley, standing up too and looking from Angel to the door. The answer to his question walked inside about five seconds later. "Hello, Buffy," he said.

"Hi, Wes," said Buffy, walking towards Angel.

"I'll just be off to follow a lead about some mucus demon in Silver Lake, then," he said. He gave a wry smirk and strode out of the office, though the leather trousers made it slightly difficult for him to affect his characteristic pompous gait. Buffy had to fight back a giggle and the corners of Angel's mouth twitched as they watched him leave. Once they heard the outer office door shut behind him, Buffy closed the remaining distance between herself and Angel and stood on tiptoe to kiss him.

"This is a nice surprise," said Angel once she pulled back. "I wasn't sure I'd see you this weekend. How'd the tests go?"

"I passed the one I got back so far," she said brightly. "But there needs to be a rule against professors all scheduling their tests in the same week, because that's just evil." The studying required to prepare for this first wave of tests had forced them to cancel their plans for the previous weekend. "What about you? Did you have a case?" she asked as he began to lead the way down to the apartment.

"Doyle had a vision a few days ago. Body-jumping parasite."

Buffy made a face. "Was that as gross as it sounds?"

"No, it was worse, but then I set it on fire."

"That's good."

They reached the bottom of the stairs, and Buffy left his side to go curl up on the sofa. He watched her carefully on his way to join her. Everything she'd said so far had been in a tone of forced cheerfulness, and her body language had been falsely casual. Not that there had been anything obvious about it. In fact, he only knew it wasn't genuine because it didn't match her heart rate and breathing at all, and she had yet to make eye contact with him since her arrival. He let out an inaudible sigh, then sat down at the opposite end of the sofa from her. He fixed his gaze on her, but said nothing. She fidgeted for a few seconds in silence until the tension became too great and she couldn't stop herself from glancing at him.

"We have a conversation to finish," he said once she had finally looked him in the eye. Though he was fairly certain that he would rather reminisce about hell than have this particular conversation, he knew that they weren't going to be able to be completely comfortable around each other again until the issue had been addressed.

"What conversat—" Buffy began, but she broke off abruptly as realization hit her. Her eyes widened and she went red. "Oh. You know, i-it's not really important. I don't think we need to revisit the agenda of crazy mostly-soulless Buffy."

"Crazy mostly-soulless Buffy might have been the first one to say something about it, but this didn't come from her," said Angel evenly. "You said you've wanted me to bite you again for months."

Buffy went even redder and averted her eyes. "You weren't supposed to find out about that."

"But I did."

"And now you probably think I'm a scary freak."

"I don't." He closed his eyes and took a long, slow breath. "You also said you knew I wanted to."

"I'm so sorry I said that. I know how much you hate having a demon in you and that it's not your fault and—"

"You were right."

"—it's not like you can turn it off, and—what?"

"You were right," he repeated. He was the one who couldn't make eye contact now. "You were right about the part where I think that makes me an evil monster, too."

"It doesn't," said Buffy. Then she laughed. It was a high-pitched and mildly hysterical sound. "Oh, this is fun. We both want it, but I think you should find me really disturbing for it, and you think I should want to stake you for it. Are other couples ever this ridiculous?"

"I don't know," he said, chuckling.

"Okay, how about this," she said. Her face was still rather pink, but her tone was diplomatic. "So far, all we know is that we both want it, and since that's clearly freaking us out, maybe we should talk about why, so that we can each know where the other's coming from."

He nodded in agreement, and she waited patiently while he gathered his thoughts.

"For vampires, this is actually pretty standard," he said eventually, grimacing. "Even without souls, we still have enough human in us to be attracted to humans, but because we're demons, we always crave human blood. It's really easy for the two desires to get jumbled together. And it goes beyond that. Vampires can be more depraved than you or any other human with a soul and no demon could possibly imagine. They revel in pain, sometimes feeling it as well as causing it."

He stopped speaking briefly, and she saw his hands clench convulsively into fists. "Darla and Drusilla liked it when I hurt them—Dru because I made her that way. I feel like—I feel like somehow I did the same thing to you if I made you want that too. I never _ever_ want to treat you the way I treated them, and I can't abide the thought that I brought someone as good and pure as you down to their level in spite of my soul and how much I love you."

"But I don't want you to hurt me," said Buffy, surprised. He looked surprised too, and confused, so she struggled for a way to explain. "Look, first of all, I wouldn't want it at all if you didn't have a soul, and I don't want it from any other vampire. Ever. Also, I'm not going to pretend that at least part of this doesn't have to do with our whole Slayer/vampire natural enemies thing somehow being really sexy."

He couldn't help smirking a little at that.

"But that's not all of it, and we pretty much already have that part covered with the sparring and stuff anyway," she went on. "And, okay, maybe the biting was about pain for Darla and Drusilla," she said, wrinkling her nose in distaste, "but for me the pain is just a minor footnote. For me, it's about loving you, Angel. It's about feeling so…so profoundly connected to you that I don't even have words for it. And it's about reliving the time I was able to use my life to save yours. I had no _idea_ how incredible that would feel. I don't think it's something I would ever have been ready for if it hadn't been completely about wanting to save you. If a little pain is the price to get that back, I'd pay it a hundred times over."

She looked at him sadly upon concluding this speech, and in a quiet voice asked, "Was it anything like that for you at all?" If it hadn't been, then she wouldn't press for it. She didn't want to be the only one who felt all of that, especially if for him it was just a traumatic loss of control that reminded him of things he'd done without a soul. But she needn't have worried.

"Of course it was," he said. "I told you before the battle on graduation day that I'd never felt anything like it before, and I want to have that again just as much as you do. But it's more complicated than that. I still have all those desires other vampires have—all the ones _I _had before I was cursed—but I have a soul, so they don't have to control me, and I don't want them to. It's a constant struggle, one I've come close to losing more times than I can count. I've never wanted any blood more than I want yours, but biting you would mean surrendering to the part of me I'm trying to fight."

"But is it really a surrender if you're not taking it by force? This is something I _want_ to give you. On top of everything else, I know that my blood makes you stronger. I can make you heal faster when you're hurt, and you being stronger would be a comforting thing to know when I'm in Sunnydale and you're facing God knows what in L.A."

"At the cost of making you weaker?" he said, his expression pained. "What if we did this, and it took an edge off your strength that would have made the difference between winning and losing against a demon?"

Buffy shook her head. "My Slayer strength isn't only in my blood. It's in all of me. Otherwise I couldn't have fought the Mayor right after all those transfusions. I can lose at least as much blood as they'd take at the Red Cross before I start to get off my game, and thanks to that good old Slayer healing, I'm back to normal in a couple of hours anyway." She looked at him shrewdly. "But some of this is about you thinking you don't have enough control to stop there, isn't it?"

"I didn't stop there last time," he said.

"But you _stopped_. I don't think you give yourself enough credit."

"What makes you so sure I'd be able to again? Stopping was the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. Now I know how good it tastes, it would be even harder."

"Maybe. Or maybe the reason it's so hard is that you're not used to it. Food cravings only drive you crazy when you don't satisfy them."

He didn't reply to this, still looking very uncertain.

She sighed and smiled. "So, did that help? You still don't think I'm a scary freak?"

"No."

"Good! And I still don't think you're an evil monster," she said lightly. And she'd been able to get through the entire conversation without spontaneously combusting from sheer mortification. But then she noticed the sorrowful, faraway look on his face and sobered again. "What is it, Angel?" she asked, scooting closer and slipping one hand into his.

"I don't deserve any of the things you've already given me, let alone this."

"Yes you _do_," she said firmly. "We've been through this before. And don't say you don't have anything to offer me in return, because you do. You're you and you love me and you make me happy. There isn't a single other guy in the world who could do all of that."

For a long moment, he said nothing. But then she felt him squeeze her hand. "I still need time to consider everything," he said.

"Okay," she said, snuggling up against his side. "I won't pressure you into it if it makes you too uncomfortable. You've got the hard part anyway."

"It isn't hard for you to let me bite you?" he asked, wrapping an arm around her.

Buffy shook her head. "Nope. My Slayer instincts have been—what was that term we learned in Psych the other day?—_desensitized _to you for a long time. I trust you completely."

"That makes one of us."

For a moment, she looked at him with her brow furrowed in concern, but then she reached up and pulled his face to hers for a kiss.

* * *

Holy crap I wrote the taboo conversation.


	4. When Fates Conspire to Ruin Your Weekend

I'm still here! Actually, if you want to see the stuff I've been working on since I last updated anything, check out "Season 8", which I've been re-editing, though so far I'm only to episode 13 with that. (You can tell how far I've gotten by the type of page breaks I use. †=new, [o]=old.) Mostly it's just involved fixing the diction, characterization, and punctuation wherever my noob writer-ness of three years ago shone through, but in some places I made more significant changes, the biggest of which are in the Buffy/Angel scenes in episode 3. Those scenes pretty much sucked (and were actually the reason I used to think I hated fluff in fanfiction; it turns out I only hate _poorly written_ fluff), so I completely rewrote them. But anyway, on with the story! This chapter takes place at the beginning of "The Harsh Light of Day" (and consequently slightly before "In the Dark"). This, as you will soon discover, is where the deviation from canon is going to start getting really significant in ways other than Buffy and Angel still being together.

* * *

"Isn't this weekend Angel's turn to come here?" asked Willow in puzzlement as she watched Buffy playing idly with the straw in her soda, her eyes unfocused.

"Yeah," said Buffy. "He'd already be here, except that Doyle had a vision a few hours ago about a girl with a scary abusive boyfriend. Angel doesn't want to leave town to come here until he's sure she'll be okay for at least the rest of the weekend."

"Oh."

"But it's okay," said Buffy, almost succeeding at not sounding halfhearted, "hanging out at the Bronze is good, too, and I should go patrolling tonight."

Willow smiled and raised an eyebrow.

"I'm serious," Buffy insisted. "Helping people has to come first for him, just like slaying has to come first for me. I know this. I shouldn't let it turn me into a party pooper every time duty decides to call on date night." She shifted in her seat and fidgeted with her drink as she continued in a lower and slightly grumpier voice, "I just sort of think that, you know, if duty had any consideration for the dutiful, it would only call Monday through Thursday."

"I'd tell you I'm sure it won't happen a lot, but that would probably just jinx it," said Willow apologetically.

Buffy smiled, and it actually reached her eyes for the first time that evening. "Thanks anyway. And I really am glad to be here hanging out with you."

Willow smiled back, but then her attention was caught by something behind her. "Oh hey, and isn't that your new friend over there?" she said, pointing.

Buffy looked around, puzzled, until she spotted Parker at the pool table. "Oh, you mean my helpful campus guide," she said brightly, turning back to Willow. "He's kinda like one of those pet dogs that looks at you with really big eyes and always has something new and exciting to show you."

"Buffy!" said Willow reprovingly, though the effect was somewhat ruined by the fact that she was grinning.

"What? I don't mean it in a bad way. He's sweet."

"Are you sure he isn't flirting?"

"He can't be sweet without flirting? He's just a nice guy. He knows I'm not available. I even told him what my ring means the first time I met him."

"Hey," said Oz, who had just joined them at their table, his band having just finished their last song of the evening. "You guys ready to load up and go?" he asked, slipping an arm around Willow's waist.

"Just about," said Willow.

"Actually, I'll pass on the ride," said Buffy.

"Patrol?" said Oz.

"Yep. Want me to help you load up first?"

"Nah, we've got it."

The three of them exchanged farewells, then parted, Willow and Oz heading for the stage, Buffy for the main exit.

"Buffy, hey," said a voice next to her, which turned out to belong to Parker. "Heading out?"

"Yeah," she said. "You too?"

"Mind if I walk you back? It's not real safe around here."

"Sure." So much for patrolling her way back to campus. Oh well. At least she would be ensuring that he made it back safely. That should count for something, right?

They made idle conversation as they walked. Buffy was only half paying attention, still hopeful that she'd find something to slay, even though well-lit main streets like these ones were almost always devoid of demons.

"What's that?" Parker asked after a lull in the conversation.

"Huh?" said Buffy distractedly.

"You have a scar," he said, and before she knew what he was doing, he had reached over tentatively and touched the scar on her neck. She jerked involuntarily away from his fingers and clapped a hand over her scar, the friendly ease she felt around him suddenly gone. "Hey, sorry," he said, stepping back and holding up his hands, his eyes wide.

"No, no, it's okay," she said, rubbing the scar and struggling to regain her composure. "There was an…angry puppy," she invented, "and it's just still sort of, uh, tender."

"Oh," he said, looking alarmed. "I hope you didn't get, like, rabies or anything."

"What? No!" she said, feeling rather offended on Angel's behalf by the mere idea of it. "No rabies. Just a scar."

"That's good, I guess," he said. "Hey, have you heard about the party at Wolfhouse tomorrow night?"

"Uh…I think so."

"Want to come?"

†

"You…want me to go to a frat party," said Angel, hoping very much he had heard wrong, even though, with his sense of hearing, that was extremely unlikely.

"Yes," said Buffy.

"Why?"

"Because I got invited and it sounds like fun. There's going to be a band and dancing and I'd rather be dancing with you."

"We couldn't just go to the Bronze for a couple of hours?" _Or do neither and go straight to the apartment…?_

"Angel, I got _invited_. An actual fellow college student who isn't Willow or Oz invited me to an actual college party. I have to go!"

"I just don't think this is a good idea," said Angel, trying to sound serious rather than petulant. "The last time you went to a frat party, you almost got eaten by a big demon snake."

"Which I killed, and have killed two even bigger ones since then. Besides, Giles already checked, and the Wolfhouse guys are just regular frat guys. No history of demon worship."

"Buffy," said Angel pleadingly, dropping all pretense.

Buffy suppressed a giggle and tried to sound as reassuring as possible. "I know big loud parties really aren't your thing, and that you have a mental block about all forms of dancing developed after the 1950s, but I won't make you dance the fast songs, we can leave early, and you don't even have to talk to anyone there if you don't want to. And then I'm yours for the rest of the night and all of Sunday."

†

Buffy had just barely gotten off the phone with Angel when Willow and Oz came bursting through the door. The emotion visible on Oz's face would have been enough to make her worry on its own, but Willow was also holding a handkerchief to the side of her neck.

"Oh my God, what happened? Are you okay?" Buffy asked, standing up immediately and going to her best friend, who thankfully seemed to be steady on her feet and only looked a little paler than usual.

"Harmony came back from summer vacation kinda different," said Oz, while leading Willow over to sit on her bed.

Buffy ran to grab the first aid kit from the closet, then returned with it and sat next to them. "Vampire?" she said, passing Oz the Band-Aids, a cloth, and the bottle of rubbing alcohol.

Willow nodded, then winced slightly as Oz peeled back the handkerchief so he could start cleaning the wound.

"I should have just stayed with you guys," said Buffy in a tone of regret. "I could have stopped this from happening."

"It's not your fault, Buffy," said Willow. "And don't worry about it. Oz scared her off before she could do any real damage." She smiled admiringly at Oz as she said the last few words. Some of the tension melted from his expression and he leaned forward to kiss her on the cheek.

"I'm going to have to find her before she does," said Buffy, pulling her weapons bag out from under her bed and retrieving a stake from it. Then she paused and grimaced. "Harmony. I'm gearing up to go hunt down _Harmony_." She shook her head ruefully. "I feel like the forces of darkness are laughing at me."

"They're generally more the cackling type," said Oz.

"Well maybe I'll find something that's actually threatening while I'm out there, and then we'll see who's cackling," said Buffy.

†

About a quarter of a mile to the northeast and forty feet down, several vampires were busily engaged in chipping away at a tunnel wall, supervised by a heavily scowling Spike. "How's that, Dru?" he growled to himself. As he had already killed two of his workers just for looking at him funny, those that could hear him now pretended they did not. "Wasn't good enough last time. But soon the Gem of Amara will be mine and I'll be bathing in the Slayer's blood. Will I be demon enough for you then?"

†

Buffy was not having a fun Saturday. Not only had she failed to find Harmony the night before, but apart from one newly risen vampire at the cemetery, she hadn't encountered anything demonic on her patrol at all. It didn't seem right. Angel had a case, so why couldn't she have demons to slay? That would be fair, and then she would be too busy slaying to think about how Angel was too busy working on his case to be here with her. Instead, she'd been stuck doing homework all day. But at least she had that out of the way now.

Plus, the party was about to start, and Angel would hopefully show up at it later in the evening when he got to Sunnydale. "Hopefully" being the operative word. She had felt too guilty about purposely trying to rope him into doing something he so heartily disliked to try and wring an actual promise that he would attend out of him. If he did, she'd make it up to him, but she wouldn't blame him if he didn't, even though his absence would probably make the party much less fun for her.

Only partially succeeding in forcing herself into a peppier mood, she checked her appearance in the mirror one last time and left her dorm. When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she almost collided with someone.

"Parker!" she said in surprise. "Hi! What are you doing here? I thought you'd be at the party."

"Oh, I will, I just thought that if you hadn't already left, maybe we could walk over there together," he said, smiling.

"Okay," she said, feeling slightly relieved. She very much doubted she would know anyone at the party, so showing up with Parker would take some of the pressure off. Plus, having never actually been to Wolfhouse, she wasn't entirely sure she knew how to get there, but that wouldn't be a problem so long as her helpful campus guide was with her. "So, uh, my boyfriend might come to the party later," she said as they exited her building.

"Oh yeah?" asked Parker. Buffy wasn't looking at him, so she didn't catch the annoyed expression on his face.

"Yeah. He doesn't really like crowded places or loud music or the kind of dancing that goes with crowded places and loud music, and I don't really like torturing him, so if he shows up I probably won't stay much longer."

"What's wrong with crowded places and loud music?"

"For him it's pretty much sensory overload," she said, then shook her head. "No, wait, that's wrong. We just did this in Psych. He's more of a—oh, come on, I was studying this stuff all day—a highly sensitive person."

"Sensitive? Like, emotionally?" said Parker, sounding both confused and derisive, though Buffy failed to notice the latter.

"No—well, he's that kind of sensitive too, but I mean psychologically. A highly sensitive person is someone who is quiet and observant and reflective. They process sensory data much more deeply and thoroughly than other people because of the way their nervous systems work, and they tend to come across as innately shy and introverted." And in Angel's case, this probably had something to do with his vamp senses. Things didn't have to get terribly loud, bright, or smelly before they were physically overwhelming for him, so small wonder that one of his favorite pastimes was brooding quietly in the dark away from the smell of human blood.

"Dang, I think I want you as my tutor in that class," said Parker, now sounding somewhere between impressed and alarmed.

Buffy snorted and rolled her eyes. "Bad idea. I'm not usually this informed. Willow's the one you should ask if you need a tutor."

They reached Wolfhouse shortly thereafter, where the party was already underway. Parker opened the door for Buffy, who was attempting to use her Angel-sense (so dubbed by Willow) to gauge whether Angel had left L.A. already, but it was no use. All she knew was that he wasn't nearby yet.

"See your boyfriend?" asked Parker as they made their way across the entrance hall.

"No," said Buffy. "But I didn't expect him to beat me here."

"Then…may I have this dance?" he asked, striking an exaggeratedly gallant pose. The band had just started a new song.

Buffy smiled in a disbelieving sort of way, not taking his hand.

"Oh, come on, I can't just let the prettiest girl here stand by the wall, can I?" he said.

She gave him a stern look, but allowed him to lead her to where everyone else was dancing. It was a good song, and the dance was fun. What was more, Buffy could definitely feel that Angel was getting closer now, and her enjoyment of the party seemed to be increasing in direct proportion to his proximity. A couple of songs later, she was laughing and smiling easily, any reservations she might have had about the party now gone.

"Can I get you a soda?" asked Parker after the fourth song ended.

"Yeah, thanks," she said, turning to glance at the door as she'd done every minute since they got there. She frowned. Two people had just walked in, a guy and a girl. There were too many people in the way for her to get a good look at the girl, though she had caught a glimpse of blonde hair, but she did recognize the guy. It was the guy Willow had tutored the previous year. Percy, if she remembered right. Maybe it was just the lighting, but there seemed to be something different about him.

Parker, meanwhile, had made his way to the snack table, at the end of which was an enormous cooler full of soda cans and ice. Remembering Buffy's preference from one of their "chance" encounters in the dining hall, he grabbed the last diet Dr. Pepper from the cooler and poured it into a cup. Then, after checking that no one was watching him, he slipped a small bottle from his pocket and emptied its contents into the cup as well.

* * *

Muah-ah-ah! Yeah, I know, it's mean to leave a cliffhanger when it's the first update on the story in four months, but I do plan to keep going at a decent pace now that it's summer break. (I'm still on the job hunt though, so until that's resolved, I can't actually guarantee frequent updates.) That bit about Buffy spouting Psych knowledge at Parker was the result of me double checking to make sure I had the definition of sensory overload right. Turns out I didn't, but I learned some fascinating things in the ensuing Wikipedia session. But she *has* been studying all day, so it's not too shocking that she has knowledge, right? Anyway, we've got three unrelated flavors of badness a-brewin' here, so hit me with your best theories about what's going on. I will explain my reasoning for the changes from canon there, but not until at least the next chapter, because I want this to play out first.


	5. Regular Dr Pepper Is Better Anyway

For some reason this was a difficult chapter to write, but I managed to finish it today, so HA. Enjoy!

* * *

Buffy wended her way through the dancing partygoers in pursuit of Percy and the blonde girl with a creeping sense of foreboding in her stomach. She had never really directly interacted with Percy—mostly she had just listened to Willow gushing proudly about how much progress he was making despite the not-so-promising beginning of their tutoring sessions—, but from the brief glimpse she caught of him when he walked in a minute ago, she knew something was wrong. His expression had seemed predatory and hungry as he looked around at the crowd of people. She knew that predatory look well, and she knew what it meant.

She finally spotted him again in a room on the other side of the house. He and the girl, who she was not surprised to learn was actually Harmony, were leading a frightened-looking guy towards a dark, secluded corner. Trying and failing to stave off the feelings of gloom and failure she always got whenever someone she knew turned up as a vampire (which were doubly strong in this case, as they applied to both Harmony and Percy), she quickened her stride and caught up to them.

"Hey, buddy, I think it's about time you headed home, don't you think?" she said cheerfully to their would-be victim, who she had just tugged away from them. He seemed confused but grateful, and hastily disappeared back through the crowd. Meanwhile, Percy and Harmony had both turned to face Buffy.

"Buffy Summers," said Harmony, her eyes narrowed and her arms folded across her chest. "What's a social reject like you doing at a cool frat party like this?"

"Oh, just trying to keep a couple of stuck-up undead popular kids from ruining it for the rest of us," she said, smiling.

"So you know," said Harmony, and Buffy had to fight back the urge to burst out laughing when she attempted to smirk evilly. "That's going to make this much easier."

"Know what? That you're a vampire?" said Buffy. "Did you think Willow wouldn't tell me?"

"Rosenberg," said Percy, looking interested in the proceedings for the first time. "I need to pay her back for beating me up at the Bronze."

Harmony made a noise of indignation. "No, you're _supposed_ to kill her because of what her boyfriend did to _me_!"

"Whatever," said Percy indifferently.

"You don't care about me at all, do you?" Harmony demanded, her voice getting louder and shriller. "I gave you immortality and now you won't even kill people for me?"

"What does it matter why I kill her as long as she ends up dead?"

"Okay," said Buffy. "How about I just stake both of you, and then you won't have to worry about this kind of stuff ever again?"

Harmony made the indignant noise again. "As if you could! Percy, baby? Kill _her_ for me and I'll let you kill Willow for any reason you want."

Buffy rolled her eyes. Even with both of them undead, she felt a little offended by the idea that Harmony Kendall thought she could beat her by siccing her boyfriend on her.

Though Percy still looked rather indifferent, he moved towards Buffy anyway, his face shifting into demonic features. Not wanting to attract the attention of everyone else at the party by slaying right in front of them, Buffy dodged around him and fled into one of the bedrooms off the hall, which was helpfully unoccupied. They came chasing after her. Once they were both inside the room, she slammed the door behind them and locked it.

"Locking yourself in with two vampires, Summers?" said Percy, slowly advancing on her again. "You got a death wish or something?"

"No," she said, clutching a stake that had recently been part of the chair in the corner of the room behind her back. She waited until he was just within arm's reach of her, then whipped it out and plunged it forward. "I have this."

He only had time to scowl before he turned to dust.

Harmony stared from Buffy to the pile of dust that had previously been her boyfriend and back again, mouth agape. "How could you do that?" she shrieked. "He was going to be with me forever! I hate you!"

Buffy gave a falsely apologetic sigh. "Sometimes these things fall apart even when we want them to last."

†

When Buffy returned to the main room of the party five minutes later, she was still so torn between amusement and irritation from the encounter with Percy and Harmony, even though they were both dust and she didn't get so much as a broken nail in the process, that she had almost forgotten about Angel's impending arrival. The result was that he actually succeeded in surprising her for a change when he materialized out of the shadows right in front of her. A delighted smile appeared on her face as all thoughts of her dead vampire classmates evaporated out of her mind.

"You came!" she said happily, throwing her arms around him and kissing him soundly on the lips. Angel responded with all the pent-up desire of the six days they'd spent apart, not caring that they were in a very crowded room (the goal, after all, was to persuade her to leave the party and go back to the Sunnydale apartment with him as quickly as possible). Her grin was a good deal sillier when he released her, which got him smiling too.

"I guess you're glad to see me," he said.

"I wasn't sure you'd really come," she said, still beaming.

"You wanted me to," he said simply.

Before Buffy could do more than give Angel an affectionate look in response to this, they were interrupted by Parker. "Hey, Buffy, there you are," he said. "Here's your drink."

"Thanks," she said, accepting the plastic cup from him. "Parker, this is Angel, my boyfriend. Angel, this is Parker, the guy who's been helping me learn the ropes at college."

Angel was not at all what Parker had expected. From everything Buffy had mentioned about her boyfriend, he had been picturing some scrawny nerdy little sap who spent his time writing poetry and had probably won Buffy's affection with lots of girlish sensitivity and romantic gifts. This mental image had fit both the girly name and the corny symbolic promise ring. He had definitely not expected that Angel would turn out to be large and muscular, nor that he would be staring back at him with a coldly shrewd expression that gave him the creeping suspicion that he was very capable of snapping him like a twig if given sufficient provocation.

"It's nice to meet you," said Angel. His tone was perfectly cordial, but his expression had not softened in the slightest.

"Angel," said Buffy, "could you hold this for me? Bathroom." She handed him her untouched drink and vanished into the crowd again, leaving the two of them standing there.

"So, uh, Buffy tells me you live in L.A. Are you a grad student at UCLA or something?" said Parker. On the surface, he was just as charming as ever, but underneath, he was seething. All of his subtle work to seduce Buffy had clearly been a complete waste of time. His best option now was to retreat without his game getting discovered.

"No," said Angel. "I run a private investigation business." When Buffy had told him in passing about the nice upperclassman who was helping her figure things out, he hadn't really thought much about him except to be grateful to him that Buffy wasn't as lost and overwhelmed by college as she had been at first. But he had this guy's number now. He'd barely spoken a dozen words to him, but he already knew what he was. He'd seen the way his eyes followed Buffy and how they sized him up as competition, but even more telling was the fact that he had the scents of at least two different women on him.

For all this, Angel might not have cared enough to confront him—he knew Buffy could take care of herself if he ever tried anything—, but he could also smell the alcohol in the soda Parker had procured for Buffy. It was clear to him that Parker was even more of a cad than he'd been before Darla turned him. At least all the women he'd been with back then had known his intentions. He'd never taken advantage of trusting, kind-hearted women by raising false expectations of future commitment, and he'd never attempted to seduce women who were already committed to other men. He very much doubted that Parker could make either claim.

"Buffy told me about you," he said. He began to move forward slowly, so that without realizing it, Parker was being guided away from the crowd and towards a more secluded part of the house. He surreptitiously dropped the drink into a trashcan along the way.

"She did?" said Parker, smirking.

"Yeah. She's been very grateful for your help. Seems to think you'll make a really good friend."

Parker looked both amused and incredulous, and was still apparently unaware that he was being slowly backed into a corner. "Don't tell me you're one of those nut jobs who freaks out whenever his girlfriend has guy friends."

"No," said Angel, his fake smile transforming into a menacing glower and his lip curling, his voice growing colder with every word, "because Buffy's real guy friends are actually her friends." His hand shot out faster than blinking to close around Parker's throat, and he shoved him against the wall inches behind him and lifted him off his feet. "They don't _pretend_ to be her friends and then _spike_ her drinks with enough alcohol to get her plastered before she even knows what hit her."

"Are you insane?" Parker choked, attempting to pry Angel's hand away and looking close to wetting himself with fear. "I didn't do anything! So the drink's spiked—that doesn't mean it was me."

Angel reached into the inside pocket of Parker's jacket with his free hand and pulled out the empty bottle.

Parker gulped. "Please, I was just having some fun. I wasn't going to hurt her, I swear. Let me go!"

Angel released him abruptly, causing him to crumple to the ground at his feet in a heap. He crouched down so that his face was inches away from Parker's, then let his features shift. Parker's eyes widened in terror. "I suggest you reconsider your definition of 'fun', boy, because if you try anything like this again," Angel growled, "it'll be the last thing you ever do."

"I'm sorry!" Parker squeaked, looking around frantically for someone to help him, but there was no one nearby. "Please don't hurt me!"

"Just as long as you don't give me a reason to," said Angel, his face going back to normal as he stood up straight again. "This is your only warning."

Parker nodded vigorously and scrambled away. Angel watched him until he disappeared out the back door of the house, then made his way over to the drinks table, pulled an untainted can of Dr. Pepper from the cooler, poured its contents into a cup, disposed of the empty can, and went back to where Buffy had left him, just in time for her return.

"Hey! Back," she said. She looked around and frowned. "Where did Parker go?"

Angel shrugged and handed her the drink. "He left. Didn't say why."

"That's too bad," she said, taking a few sips from the cup. A new song started then, and it was clearly one that she liked, because she hurriedly downed the rest of the drink and pulled him over to where several couples were already dancing so that they could join in. "I'm so glad you came, Angel," she said happily a minute later, her head resting against his chest as they revolved slowly together. "If you want, we can leave when this song ends."

* * *

I don't like Harmony. She annoys me more than she amuses me, and I never understand why the good guys didn't just stake her. I suppose the writers' perspective was that she's funny, so keep her around, but it makes no sense from the characters' perspective. So I decided not to have any of that contrived nonsense in my version of events, but oddly I still couldn't bring myself to have Buffy actually stake her onscreen. Possibly because it wouldn't have been a remotely fair fight. Whatever. And then there's Parker. Since he hasn't actually done anything to Buffy yet, I didn't think Angel had sufficient provocation to "snap him like a twig", as Parker so astutely realized Angel was capable of doing, and just had Angel threaten and terrify him. I also thought he wouldn't necessarily want to tell Buffy about the confrontation, because she still thinks Parker is a nice guy, and enlightening her about that would probably make her feel betrayed and used and hurt. There's no need for that now that there's no way Parker will ever try anything. She might still find out what happened, but only if Parker decides to avoid her rather than continue to be friendly (minus the ulterior motives).


	6. SPF 1 Million

Muahaha! New chapter! Meant to finish it last night, but I was too distracted with staking out Pottermore for the fourth clue. (Which turned out to be a waste of time, since it showed up at 8:30 this morning. *mutinous muttering*) I've got some stuff that I wrote back in the spring that I can't post until a few chapters from now, and I really want to get to it. So that will hopefully spur me on a little faster with the updates. As to "Season 9", I'm still re-editing everything I've already posted, which is why I haven't started writing anything new for it. I finished editing "Season 8" and only have a few episodes to go in "Season 9". Also, since the last four episodes will all be part of the final arc, I need to finish getting them all outlined so none of them will end up having an unequal share of the plot. I've also been slightly distracted by the HP fandom, but I'm trying not to let that affect my posts in the Buffyverse too much. Anyway, the new chapter. We're still in "The Harsh Light of Day", and now that we've dealt with Harmony, Percy, and Parker, it's time to revisit the other threat from chapter four.

* * *

"Angel…we have to…stop," said Buffy breathlessly between kisses. "If you don't…leave soon, you won't…make it back…to L.A. before…sunrise."

"Would it be so bad if I got stuck in Sunnydale for another day?" Angel murmured against her skin, moving them so that she was trapped with her back against the wall.

Buffy registered dimly that it was a good thing it was so early in the morning, when the halls of the dormitory building were deserted, because these displays of affection were not ones she wanted to be open to the public. She made a feeble effort to push him away, which did at least temporarily halt his kisses. "No," she said with a slight giggle, "it would be too good, which is the problem." She saw him closing in again and put a hand on his chest. It was very difficult to be persuasive when most of her wanted nothing more than for him to continue. "Come on, we made it all the way to the hall outside my room. I should go inside and sleep so I won't be a zombie in class today." Unable to help herself, she leaned forward and kissed him again, but pulled back quickly so that he could answer her.

"I could stay and make up for missing the first half of the weekend," he offered, one hand on her waist and the other caressing her jaw.

"You already made up for it," she said earnestly. She smiled and reached up to touch his face. "It was wonderful. But I have class today, and you have a case. And Doyle could get another vision on top of that."

Angel sighed. "I know," he said, sounding rueful.

"I'll call you tonight," Buffy promised.

"I'll be waiting," said Angel with a hint of a smile.

Their parting kiss at her door was long and slow, leaving Buffy dazedly happy even after he had departed. She managed to sneak silently into her room, only to find that such measures were unnecessary, as Willow's bed was empty. Clearly she wasn't the only one who'd spent the weekend having quality boyfriend time.

†

Angel never liked it when his weekends with Buffy ended and he had to leave Sunnydale, but he didn't usually have such an ominous feeling in the pit of his stomach as he was driving away. Now that he was focusing on it rather than Buffy, he realized that it had been there under the surface ever since he arrived in town, but he hadn't really given it any thought. He couldn't figure out where it was coming from, but he knew he'd felt it before. He kept driving but couldn't shake that feeling. Finally, somewhere just past the halfway point of the drive, he turned the car around. He knew he'd be cutting it very close; he could already see the eastern horizon lightening as dawn approached, but he had to get back.

†

The solid rock above Spike continued to break away as he went at it with one of the large drills he and his crew had stolen from a construction site in the next town over. At first, it seemed like the same trickle of debris was falling on him as usual, but then the head of the drill jerked upward and much more of the rock crumbled away than usual. It seemed that, at last, after days of tunneling, he had finally reached the floor of the crypt. From that point, it only took a few minutes to widen the initial hole into something large enough to climb through.

†

Angel had reached Sunnydale just as the sun peeked over the horizon, forcing him to seek shelter in the sewers several miles from his destination. Fortunately, he knew the Sunnydale sewers almost as well as the Los Angeles ones, but it still slowed him down considerably, turning a journey of twenty minutes into a much longer one.

†

Buffy was awoken shortly after nine in the morning by the arrival of her very chipper best friend. She would have preferred to keep sleeping, but they had class in an hour, so she reluctantly got out of bed. "Morning, Wil," she mumbled sleepily.

Willow beamed at her. "How was your weekend with Angel?" she asked.

Buffy smiled and shot Willow a sly sideways glance. "By the looks of it, about as good as your weekend with Oz," she said.

Willow blushed and rolled her eyes, still grinning. "What about slaying? Did you ever find Harmony?"

"Yeah," said Buffy, her face falling a little. "And actually, she wasn't the only one I found."

"What do you mean?" asked Willow, who was now flitting back and forth between her bed and her desk, collecting and organizing the things she'd need for class.

Buffy hesitated slightly. "Percy," she said.

Willow stopped and faced her, frowning. "What about him?" she asked.

"Harmony turned him," said Buffy.

Willow's eyes widened and she sank unsteadily onto her bed. "Oh," she said quietly. "Is he—"

"Dust?" finished Buffy. "Yeah." She walked over and sat next to Willow. "Both of them. Wasn't much of a fight. Wil…I'm sorry."

"Thanks," said Willow in a rather hollow voice. "Do—do you know if he had time to…to hurt anyone?"

"I don't think he did," said Buffy. She thought about how Percy and Harmony had been planning to kill Willow and decided not to tell her about that. But even without that tidbit, the subject of Percy had definitely thrown a dark cloud over their happy morning, which persisted even after they reached their Psych class.

Oz came in a few minutes after them and immediately saw that all was not as well with Willow as it had been when they parted earlier that morning. He took the empty seat on her right and silently leaned close to press a kiss to her temple and drape an arm around her shoulders. She snuggled as close to him as the hard lecture hall seats permitted, looking a little happier. Buffy smiled gratefully at Oz, who inclined his head in reply.

†

Angel knew he was somewhere near the UC Sunnydale campus. Soon he'd be able to exit the sewer through the student parking garage, which was connected via tunnel to a building in the shade of Buffy's dorm. But before he could do anything about this plan, his attention was caught by the sound of voices in the tunnels ahead. Automatically, his gait, which had already been so quiet that no human could have heard it, became completely silent, and he was careful to keep out of the occasional shafts of light that penetrated the darkness.

"That necklace is mine!" said one voice. "Give it back before I stake you!"

A second voice scoffed, "I'd like to see you try it. There's plenty left in that crypt, but as for the necklace, _I _saw it first."

The first voice swore, and the second chuckled.

"How do you know the boss hasn't taken a fancy to it?" asked a third voice, which sounded more nervous than the other two. "He _will_ stake you if you've taken something he wants."

"Like I'm sticking around long enough to ask permission," said the second voice dismissively. "We did his digging for him, so I say we get our share of the loot."

"Besides," added the first voice, "he only seemed interested in that ring he took. Hardly even looked at the rest of it."

Angel was on top of the three vampires before they even knew he was in the tunnel with them, and vampire number two (the one he deemed most likely to be a threat) was dust before he could say another word. Vampire number one followed seconds later. Vampire number three tried to flee, but Angel seized him by the arm, which he twisted painfully behind his back while he pinned him against the tunnel wall. "This a private grave robbing, or can anyone join in?" he asked.

"Sure, man, help yourself!" said the vampire, his voice shrill with panic and his scent thick with fear.

"Who was your boss, and why was he so interested in this ring?"

"If I tell you that, he'll kill me!"

"And if you don't, I will. Ask your buddies if I'm bluffing."

"Okay, okay! He never told us why he wanted to find the crypt, but he kept muttering to himself about how once he got hold of some gem, the Slayer wouldn't stand a chance against him. He's gonna bring her head to some broad who dumped him to try and get her to take him back."

Feeling profoundly relieved that he'd acted on his hunch and risked the sun to return to Sunnydale, Angel tightened his grip on his captive's arm, causing him to let out a cry of pain and protest. "What vampire would be stupid enough to deliberately take on this Slayer?" said Angel. At least in local demonic circles, Buffy was legendary. It generally took either a very stupid or a very powerful demon to intentionally seek a fight with her these days. Most knew to keep their distance.

"Spike! His name is Spike," said the vampire.

Angel froze. After a few seconds, he asked in a voice of forced calm, "What do you know about that gem?"

"I saw him pick up a cross after he put it on. It didn't even burn him!"

"The Gem of Amara," said Angel, his eyes widening. So it was real. And now Spike had it, and he was going after Buffy.

"Okay, I've told you everything," said the vampire. "You gonna let me go?"

Angel released him and he promptly bolted. Angel saw the stake he'd used on the other two lying on the grimy tunnel floor. In one movement, he kicked it up into his hand and threw it at the fleeing vampire, who had barely gone ten feet when it struck. By the time the dust settled, Angel had already disappeared down the tunnel in the opposite direction.

†

On the way to her next class, Buffy spotted Parker. She waved and smiled at him, but he seemed too intent on his conversation with the girl sitting next to him to notice her. Shrugging, she walked on.

"Well, if it isn't the big Slayer on campus."

Buffy spun around and came face to face with Spike.

In the sunlight.

Not on fire.

Before she had time to do anything more than be confused and horrified, his fist collided with her face.

* * *

Okay, I promised some explanation for the changes from canon back in chapter four once more of the story unfolded, and now it has. Why didn't Spike/Harmony happen? If you recall from flashbacks in the later seasons, the reason Dru dumped Spike the second time was that she could see the obsessive infatuation he was going to develop for Buffy. Even if he does still fall for Buffy in this version of events (I haven't decided yet, and I'm not sure I'll ever write it out that far anyway), as long as she's with Angel, there will never be any Buffy/Spike action of any kind, so there's far less for Dru to see and hold against Spike. But she can still be unfaithful to him for other reasons, which is what he's trying to put a stop to by getting the Gem of Amara and killing Buffy. And I figure that if Spike is focused on a quest to win back Drusilla, he's not going to spare so much as a glance for Harmony. Without Harmony around to blab his plans to the Scoobies, they have no idea he's even in town, much less that he's digging for the Gem of Amara. Which means it's much more surprising for Buffy when he turns up in the sunlight to fight her. As to Angel, according to "Somnambulist", he has a connection with those he sired, which was why he was having dreams of what Penn was doing as if he was doing it himself (but it still took him days to realize it was Penn), and he definitely had a connection to his own sire, but there was never any evidence in canon that he has the same degree of connection with vampires the next generation down, like Spike. Also, whatever connection he does have with Spike, he's used to feeling it in combination with his connection to Dru, and I think that her absence would alter the effects enough to make him a little slower on the uptake.


	7. It Doesn't Go with Your Outfit

Ha! I'm at my new university that I successfully transferred to and I'm in my new apartment and my bills are paid and I have a job! Which means I currently have no major sources of stress to block the flow of inspiration, which in turn hopefully means I'll be able to get on with "Season 9" finally. There's also the matter of distractions, and currently the only distraction is Doctor Who, which keeps getting more awesome to the point that it's kind of ridiculous, but I've only got one season to go now before I'm caught up, so that won't be getting in the way of writing for much longer either. In the meantime, here's the next chapter of this one. Enjoy!

* * *

Buffy staggered backward from Spike's punch, but it wasn't nearly as disorienting as the shock of seeing him grinning evilly at her in full sunlight. "Birds singing, squirrels making lots of rotten little squirrels, sun beaming down in a nice non-fatal way," he was saying. "It's very exciting. Can't wait to see if I freckle."

He lunged at her again, but she was ready for it this time. She was able to block the attack and land a heavy blow of her own to his jaw, then whipped out the stake she carried on her at all times and plunged it into his chest. She waited, but Spike only grinned again, seized her hand with the stake in it and pulled it closer. "Oh, do it again," he said. "It tickles. You know, in a good way."

"This is impossible," she said weakly.

"What can I say, love?" said Spike, his grin widening, "Looks like impossible just isn't what it used to be." He paused for a second then, his nostrils flaring and his head tilting to the side. Then he shoved her away from him sharply, sending her tumbling to the ground. "Now isn't that interesting," he said as he stalked towards her, now positively leering with wicked amusement, "Seems like Angel made it out of hell after all." He kicked viciously before Buffy could get out of the way. His boot connected with her stomach hard enough that she was lifted off the ground and went crashing into a bench. She fell over the back of it and landed in a crumpled heap on the grass, doubled up and gasping for breath. "And by the smell of it, you two've been shagging like bunnies. So does that mean your lot shoved that poncy soul of his back in for good, or are you just a hell of a lot kinkier than I thought? Because if it's the latter, I'd love a go too before I drain you dry."

_This is just what I need_, thought Buffy dully. _An invincible Spike taunting me about my love life while he beats the crap out of me_._ The next time the only slays I get in a weekend are annoying former classmates with no fighting skills, I'll just be grateful._ "You're a pig, Spike," she said in disgust as she got to her feet.

"Ah, so it's the former, then. Pity. In that case, once I've killed you, I'll go after him," he said, shifting into vamp face. "I think I'll have the edge in the fight, don't you?" he added, holding up his left hand and wiggling the fingers tauntingly, causing the ring he was wearing to catch the light of the sun. It was large, ornate, made of gold, and set with a green gem. Buffy's brow furrowed. Spike's remark about going after Angel had set her blood boiling with anger, but not enough to make her unobservant. As far as she could remember, Spike wasn't generally big with the accessorizing, and yet now he was wearing this ring and waving it in her face as though it was relevant to the fight.

This time, she didn't wait for him to attack first. When he got close enough, she kicked out at his left leg, knocking it out from under him. Apart from invincibility, nothing was different about him except that ring. She had to get it off him. She tried to pin him down, but he was too quick, and they ended up grappling with each other on the ground. He managed to roll them and get on top of her, but she got her legs up between them and kicked him off. He went crashing into an open trapdoor leading to an electrical tunnel and fell through.

Buffy retrieved her stake and jumped in after him, but before her eyes could adjust to the darkness of the tunnel, she had received another blow to the face from Spike.

"Moving the fight to my territory, eh, Slayer? Not very smart," he jeered.

Lip curling, Buffy caught the next punch and hurled him against the wall. The back of his head hit with a loud _crack_. Without giving him time to recover, she swung him around the other way, so that this time he collided with the wall face-first. Still holding onto his arm, she seized the ring and pulled.

"No!" Spike roared as the ring left his hand.

"Ha!" said Buffy, tossing it up and catching it again in one hand while reaching for her stake with the other. "I knew it. You know, when the source of your invincibility is that easy to remove, you really shouldn't wave it in your enemy's face in the middle of the fight." She made to smash the ring against the wall, but Spike lunged forward to stop her. He missed the ring but slammed into Buffy hard enough to knock her backwards. Her head hit the ladder that led out of the tunnel and she fell to the ground, her stake rolling from her limp fingers.

Spike's grin was back in place now, but before he could retrieve the ring and finish her off (not necessarily in that order), there came a roar of fury from the other end of the tunnel. Spike turned in time to see Angel barreling towards him like a charging bull, his yellow eyes full of rage and his fangs bared. He straightened up and braced himself for the impact, but he was still knocked off his feet when Angel's shoulder rammed into his chest, and he could barely fend off the worst of the flurry of punches Angel was raining on him now. But then he felt his fingers brush up against something lying next to him on the tunnel floor.

A yard or so away, Buffy stirred. Her head was throbbing as though about to split in two, and the sounds of what seemed to be a pair of lions fighting to the death was not helping. After a few seconds, her mind had cleared enough for her to realize that the lions were in fact Angel and Spike. She turned and saw that Angel had Spike on the ground and was holding him down with one hand and punching him repeatedly with the other while he attempted to block them with one arm. She was glad he had it under control, because even the idea of fighting right now hurt to so much as think about, let alone put into action. But then her eye was caught by Spike's other hand, which was closing over the stake she had dropped when she lost consciousness. The pain in her head suddenly chased away by panic, she snatched up the ring that had fallen a few inches from her hand and leapt forward. Just as the stake reached Angel's chest, she seized the hand that was drawn back to punch Spike again and forced the ring onto his finger.

Angel stared wide-eyed at the several inches of wood protruding from his chest while Spike yelled in anger. Knowing that his chances of winning or even surviving were nonexistent now that they were together and Angel had the ring, he threw Angel off him and fled back down the tunnel.

Buffy made to go after him again, but the pain in her head had returned and brought friends now that the danger was over, so she stayed where she was. She turned to face Angel, whose features were human now but who was still staring at the stake in complete disbelief.

"Are you okay?" she asked, moving closer to him and starting to smile at the look on his face.

"Yeah, just give me a minute," he said faintly. He reached up and pulled the stake out, then let it clatter to the tunnel floor. Buffy saw the wound heal instantly, leaving his chest unblemished and whole beneath the large hole the stake had made in his shirt. He held his right hand up to his eyes.

"That was close," said Buffy, her chest constricting painfully.

"For you too," said Angel, pulling her to him.

For a moment, they just held each other, recovering from what they had almost lost in silence. Buffy was the first to speak. "How did you know to come back?"

"A feeling," said Angel. "I knew something wasn't right, but I had no idea it was Spike, or that he was looking for the Gem of Amara."

"That's what the ring's called?" said Buffy.

"Yeah," he said, holding his right hand up so he could examine the Ring. "I thought it was a myth."

"Good thing it isn't," said Buffy, running her fingers over the place where the stake had pierced him. She pulled away from him a little so that she could look him in the eyes. "Will it…will it do everything for you that it did for Spike?" she asked.

He nodded slowly. "It does the same for any vampire who wears it."

"So…that would mean you're invincible now."

Angel looked down. This was going to be hard. "Buffy…."

"What?" she asked. She knew that look and that tone, and they rarely boded well.

"I don't think an electrical tunnel is the best place for this conversation," he said evasively.

"What conversation? Spike found a ring that makes vampires invincible, he tried to kill me, I kicked his butt and stole it, I gave it to you, it's yours, you're invincible. End of story."

"It's not that simple."

Buffy stared at him for a full ten seconds. She knew he wasn't going to let this be easy. It might actually be physically impossible for him to do that, no matter what the circumstances were. She could see "I don't deserve this" stamped all over his face, but she didn't want to talk him out of it right now. Her head was throbbing and they'd both just narrowly escaped death, so right now all she wanted to do was claim at least some portion of the consolation prize available to them.

"Can you let it be that simple today?" she asked.

His eyes found hers again. He could see the hopeful plea in them. He had no power to refuse. With a soft smile, Buffy led him slowly into the shaft of golden sunlight falling from the open trapdoor above them.

* * *

Title is a reference to the way Buffy figures out that the ring is the reason for Spike's sudden unkillable-ness, because it's so unusual for him to be wearing a ring (I checked, and apparently he never wore any rings at all until halfway through "Something Blue", when one mysteriously appears on his finger so that he'd be able to give it to Buffy once Willow's spell kicks in, even though he has no logical way of obtaining one while chained up in Giles's bathtub), let alone one that looks so out-of-place with his outfit. And I've been going back and forth about whether or not I wanted the ring to survive this fight for months. If it got smashed in the fight, I wouldn't have to deal with the ensuing angst between Buffy and Angel about what to do with it. But in the end, I decided that I wanted them to get at least one day in the sunlight together, and that would make the angst worth it.


	8. One Day in the Sun

Been doing another rewatch with one of my coworkers (who is new to the show and enjoying it immensely), and as soon as she got to S4/_Angel_ S1, my interest in this story flared up again. Most of that interest actually involves my ideas about the AU version of "The Initiative", and how Angel will be involved in it, but obviously I have a few episodes to go before I can actually get to that, so here's the rest of "The Harsh Light of Day".

* * *

Angel was standing in direct sunlight for the first time in two and a half centuries, but all he could do was look at the petite young woman beside him. He'd seen Buffy in the sunlight before, but the experience was all the more precious this time for being able to stand there with her. It took him a minute or two to stop squinting against the uncomfortable brightness of everything around him, and he felt rather exposed standing out in the open where anyone could see him, but any uneasiness he felt was lost when he looked at her. God, she was so beautiful.

Buffy turned to face him, her expression radiant. Angel was the most beautiful man she'd ever met—she had always thought so, but it seemed that the shadows and dimly lit apartments had never done him full justice. She was pleasantly surprised to find that his hair was a lighter shade of brown than she had thought, and had the faintest hints of red in it, and that while his eyes were the same chocolaty brown, they looked much younger and brighter than usual, the warmth his soul gave them much more obvious.

Also obvious, of course, was how very, very pale he was. The usual contrast of his skin against his dark hair and eyes and his black clothes was even more noticeable now, particularly when they were surrounded by Buffy's tan southern Californian classmates, many of whose heads turned at the sight of the striking couple. Among those heads was that of the girl Parker Abrams had been attempting to woo. Noticing her distraction, he looked around and felt his blood run cold upon spotting Angel. Fortunately, Angel was staring too intently at Buffy to notice him sitting on a bench nearby, but Parker decided it was better to be safe than sorry, and fled the scene without so much as a word to the girl beside him.

In his haste, Parker didn't pay too much attention to where he was going and collided with Riley Finn halfway across the quad, but regained his balance and kept running, not bothering to apologize. Riley stared after him in bemused irritation, then turned to see what Parker had been so keen to get away from, wondering if he'd need to get a squad in to take care of an HST. He couldn't see anything to cause alarm, and his eyes were caught instead by Willow's friend from Walsh's Psych class whose name he was still having trouble remembering. She was accompanied by a tall man with dark hair and a long black coat—strange attire for this weather, but not the strangest thing he'd seen people wearing on this campus—whose skin was so deathly white that Riley would have pegged him as a vampire if he hadn't been standing in direct sunlight. The way the two of them were looking at each other gave Riley the squirming feeling that he was intruding on something very private, so he turned away and continued on to his next class.

Riley may have dismissed the idea that the pale man was a vampire, but there was one person on the quad who did not. A young woman with long dirty-blonde hair, who had spread her textbooks out in the shade of a tree not far from where Buffy and Angel stood, watched them anxiously. She had known immediately that the man wasn't human, and at first, she wondered if she should try to approach them and get the girl away from him, or if she should try casting some kind of protection spell on her even though they were all out in the open. But the longer she watched, the less anxious she felt. She had a clear view of the man's face from where she sat, and she had never seen such an expression of pure, loving adoration in her life. No one could fake that. He may not be human, but the girl was in no danger from him.

She watched the girl slowly lift her right hand to touch the man's face, watched his eyes fall closed and a small smile form on his lips as he reached up to cover her hand with his left. The silver ring he wore caught the sunlight, and she quickly glanced at the girl's other hand, where she spotted a similar ring. She reached for some of the tingling magical power coursing through her veins and looked more deeply. She could see his soul, a shining light where there was normally only a pitch-black void in creatures like him. She could see the strength they both possessed; the scars, more spiritual than physical, of past battles; the immense weight of past wrongs he bore, and his guilt and remorse; the love that was nearly a tangible bond connecting them. They were warriors, chosen by higher powers to fight for good, brought together by that shared destiny.

Her questions more than answered, she blinked and looked away, feeling overwhelmed.

†

It took a few hours (and the blood of a couple of unfortunate workers he came across in the electrical tunnels) for Spike to overcome his rage enough to begin thinking clearly. Angel had the Gem of Amara now. As much as it galled Spike to admit it, Angelus had won every fight they'd ever had, so he had no chance of beating him now that he was actually invincible. He could target the Slayer first, but if she died, then Angel would have a reason to hunt him down. No, his chances of killing the Slayer were better than of killing Angel, but as long as Angel was alive and in possession of the Gem, it would be the last thing he'd ever do. He had to get that ring away from Angel. Once it was back on his finger, he would kill them both.

†

"Okay," said Buffy, looking up at Angel as the last sliver of sun sank below the horizon, her expression serious. "Now you're going to explain to me why this was the last day I'm going to get with you in the sunlight." Aside from the fact that it shouldn't have been possible, there hadn't been anything particularly out-of-the-ordinary about their day together. They'd left campus and found a peaceful, secluded spot by the woods on the outskirts of town (nowhere near a cemetery) and had a picnic. After Buffy had eaten her fill of ham sandwich and strawberries, and Angel assured her that he'd hear anyone coming before they got within fifty feet of them, they'd made love until they fell asleep in each other's arms. They woke up in time to watch the sunset together, but Buffy didn't waste a second after it was gone before reviving the topic they'd left in the tunnel that morning.

"You know I wish we could have more days like this," said Angel, pulling her closer with the arm he had wrapped around her waist. "Today was the best day of my life."

She smiled and kissed him. It was a few moments before they broke apart. "But?" she prompted.

He slipped the Gem of Amara off his finger and held it in his hand. "We won't be able to keep it quiet that I have this, Buffy. Any demons who recognize me while I'm walking around in daylight can figure it out too. Until today, I thought the Gem was a myth; everyone did, but every vampire who finds out it's real and that I have it will come after me and the people I care about to get it."

"So we'll fight them," said Buffy simply, her expression mulish.

Angel sighed and looked back at the western sky, which was slowly draining of its brilliant colors. "And we might kill a lot of them, too, but we can't guarantee that it'll never fall into the wrong hands. Spike only had to slip up for one second for you to get it off his finger. I might be a lot less reckless when I fight than he is, but I make mistakes too. Eventually some vampire's going to get it away from me, and then he'll be that much stronger with it."

"What if you only wore it in the sunlight on our weekends, when nobody else is around?"

"Spike already knows about it," he reminded her. "And he's not exactly good at keeping secrets."

Buffy pouted. She wished she could say to hell with all of it, that she wanted more time with Angel in the sunlight, dangit, and she'd kill any vamp who tried to take that away from her, but he was right. Sooner or later, they'd get caught unawares or they'd mess up. They might as well paint targets on themselves and put out a bulletin to the vampire community about the ring. The resignation she'd been forcing back all day swept over her. "There are other reasons too, aren't there?" she said. "Ones that have nothing to do with logic."

His gaze dropped a little. "Yeah."

"Please tell me none of them are that you don't think you deserve this."

He smiled ruefully. "No. It's still not easy, but I know how to accept gifts when I get them now, thanks to you." He kissed her on the temple. "This is just one I can't keep."

"What are the other reasons, then?" She wouldn't fight him, she just wanted to understand.

"It's too easy."

"What do you mean?"

He had to collect his thoughts for a moment before he could answer. "The Powers that Be gave me a mission, a way to make up for my past, and I've only just begun. Getting to walk in the sunlight feels like a reward, but it didn't come from them. It was just chance. I didn't earn it. The ring doesn't care if it's worn by a vampire with a soul who's trying to do good or by a soulless vampire bent on destroying the world. It'll still work for me even if I let invincibility go to my head and slack off on my mission. I can't know that I wouldn't, and I won't take that chance."

Buffy was unable to suppress a smile, but she was glad he couldn't see it. The fact that he had these fears about himself was enough to convince her that they were groundless. He'd always been blind to his own extraordinary strength of character. It was a quality she found strangely endearing, so she felt no desire to argue the point.

"Well," she said, sitting up straight and stretching a little, "do you want to do the honors, or should I?"

"I'll do it," said Angel. Within seconds, they located a pair of flattish rocks. Angel placed the ring on top of one and, gripping the other tightly in one hand, crushed it into crystal dust and smashed metal. There was a brief flare of green light as the Gem's power broke, and then nothing.

* * *

So...yeah, I guess this didn't cause as much angst between Buffy and Angel as I thought, but oh well. Angel made a good argument, and I feel like Buffy would have had to be pretty unreasonable to get really angry about it in spite of that. Anyway, I couldn't figure out how the heck to write their day in the sun from their perspectives, which is why I ended up writing it from the perspectives of all those passers-by. It's probably super obvious, but I'll still give an imaginary cookie to the first one to identify the young woman who was watching Buffy and Angel at the end of that first scene.


	9. To the Angelmobile!

I realized about a week after posting the last chapter that, in this version of events, Spike would have had no way of knowing that Angel had moved to L.A., so I fixed that part in the last chapter and altered my plans for this one accordingly.

* * *

Thinking to spring an ambush on Angel, Spike used the tunnels to get to the mansion on Crawford Street. However, when he got there, he was surprised to find it void of any signs of current occupation, and all the scents on the stale air were faded—no one had been inside it for months. Not interested in returning to the tunnels in search of a fresh scent to follow (he _really_ needed to beat something up), he went to Willy's.

When he entered the pub, he found it mostly deserted, as it usually was during the day, and the few patrons who were there seemed as keen to ignore him as he was to ignore them.

"Hey, if it isn't my good buddy Spike!" said Willy as soon as he saw him. Spike smirked, enjoying the smell of the little man's fear.

"That's right, Willy, I'm back in town," he said, striding up to the bar as he lit a fresh cigarette. Once the end was glowing, he inhaled deeply through it, leaned across the bar, and exhaled a cloud of smoke in Willy's face. "I was hoping you could fill me in on everything I missed. Specifically, everything about Angel and the Slayer."

"What's to know?" said Willy nervously. "She's in college now, and they do this thing where he comes here one weekend and she goes there the next—"

"What do you mean, 'there'?" said Spike. "Angel doesn't live in Sunnydale anymore?"

"Nah," said Willy. "Hasn't since sometime in the summer. Something with this Irish demon and a mission to help people. Not sure where he went, but my guess is it can't be too far if he and the Slayer are making the long-distance thing work."

Forgetting about his plan to pummel Willy to make himself feel better, Spike left without another word. If Angel no longer lived in Sunnydale, this would make things much, much easier for him. Catching him without the Slayer around should be no trouble at all.

He returned to the spot in the tunnels where Angel had caught up with him and the Slayer, then followed the scent. It wasn't very strong; Angel must have been moving quickly. He passed a few piles of vampire dust along the way, lying on the damp tunnel floor amid bits of ornate gold jewelry—the remains of his workers, he supposed. Angel must have found out about the Gem from them. Pocketing the jewelry, Spike made a mental note to come back and clean out that tomb once Angel and the Slayer were dead.

After a couple of hours, when he could feel sunset approaching, the trail finally led him back out of the sewers, into the warehouse district on the outskirts of town. The sun was low enough that he could walk safely in the shadows as he followed the trail the rest of the way to a black convertible. For about half a second, he admired Angel's taste in cars—that '67 GTX was one beautiful vehicle—before scowling. It might be cool, but his '59 DeSoto was still better.

There was no way to do this without Angel being able to smell that he'd been around the car, so Spike decided he might as well do the thing properly. He lit a new cigarette (he hadn't been able to smoke any while underground—you never knew when you could pass through a cloud of something flammable in there, and the smoke interfered with tracking anyway) and hopped over the driver's side door into the seat.

The interior was as immaculately clean as the exterior, Spike noted with disgust. No receipts or other garbage lying around on the seats and floor that could tell him where Angel lived now. He reached over to open the glove compartment. After riffling through the contents for a couple of seconds, he simply scooped everything out onto the passenger seat, then tossed things over his shoulder into the back as he went through it. Car manual, tire pump, and—there it was: a map of Los Angeles and vehicle registration with an L.A. address on it.

Spike was tempted to hotwire the car and steal it, but he wanted Angel to come after him quickly and without the Slayer, and for that, he'd need his car. So, to give Angel extra motivation, he put out his cigarette on the L.A. map, right on Angel's address, then left the mess as it was and headed back to where he'd stashed his own car, safe to walk above ground now that the sun had set.

†

Angel would have liked to stay the night in Sunnydale with Buffy, but he was still in the middle of his case with Rachel, and her boyfriend wasn't in jail yet. He had to get back.

He was still a good thirty feet away from his car when he knew something was wrong. The closer he got, the more convinced of it he became. Spike. He'd been here. When he was close enough to see into the car, his face contorted with anger at the sight of the mess inside it and the stench of Spike and his cigarettes. He began to gather things up and organize them, but froze when he saw his map of L.A., with the small round burn right over his address. Shoving it all unceremoniously back into the glove compartment, he put the key in the ignition and sped off for L.A. He just hoped Wes, Doyle, and Cordelia were all at home. Spike didn't know about any of them, and he wanted it to stay that way until he could deal with him.

†

Angel didn't park his car in the parking garage by his place like he normally did; Spike could be lying in wait there, and he didn't want to make it that easy for him to get the jump on him. Instead, he circled around and parked three blocks east, then took to the rooftops, moving silently as a shadow. He could sense that Spike was nearby, but without any kind of precision.

He made it to the roof of his building without seeing Spike anywhere, and practically flew down the stairs to the office, breathing a sigh of relief once he was inside it and sure that none of the others was there. Quickly, he picked up the phone and dialed Wesley's number.

"Hello?" said the familiar voice after two rings.

"Wes!"

"Angel? What's going on?"

"I don't have a lot of time. It's Spike. He's in L.A. I'll deal with him, but I need you to keep the others aw—" He stopped mid-sentence, going still as a statue. He'd just heard glass shatter downstairs in his apartment. It seemed he'd been giving Spike too much credit by expecting a sneak attack. With a snarl, he dropped the phone back into its cradle, spun around, and darted to the stairs, taking them in two bounds.

"There you are," said Spike, who, as Angel had expected, was halfway through ransacking the kitchen. "'Bout time you showed up."

"Was it really necessary to destroy my kitchen?" said Angel, leaning against the brick pillar. "If I wasn't even back yet, how could I have hidden the ring here?"

Spike shrugged. "Figured I'd make the most of the wait. But now that you're back…." And he launched himself at Angel, who sprang from his relaxed pose at once, dodging to the side so that Spike nearly crashed into the pillar, then seizing his arm and twisting it up tightly behind his back, shoving him hard against the pillar.

"Now that I'm back, what, I can beat you to a pulp again?" he said. "You know how this ends."

"Not this time, mate," said Spike, snapping his head back and catching Angel on the jaw, causing him to drop his arm and reel back. Spike spun to face him again. "The soul made you weak. Once I kill you and take the ring, I'll pop back down to Sunnydale and finish off your little girlfriend."

"You want the ring, Spike?" said Angel, wiping blood off his lip. "It's yours." He pulled the lump of flattened gold from his pocket and tossed it to Spike, who caught it automatically.

For a second, all he could do was stare at it in horror, before turning livid yellow eyes on Angel. "You stupid self-flagellating _sod_!" He dove forward, locking both hands around Angel's throat and slamming him against the wall. Stars popped in Angel's vision from the impact, but he still managed to grab Spike by the shoulders and ram his knee up into his stomach hard enough to crack a couple of lower ribs. Spike let go of him with a rasping roar of pain and staggered away.

"I guess you'll just have to find some other way to convince Dru you're worth her time, huh?" said Angel.

"I have a way," said Spike through clenched fangs. "It's called bringing you to her in a dust pan."

Angel smirked. "You and I both know she likes me better in one piece, but if you're still having trouble keeping her happy, you'll have to go somewhere else. I can't pick up the slack for you anymore."

For the third time, Spike lunged at Angel, now looking positively feral with rage. Together, they went crashing to the floor, rolling from the kitchen to the living room as they punched every bit of each other they could reach. A few of Angel's weapons came tumbling down from a wall when they knocked into it, and Spike, who currently had Angel pinned, seized an axe. Before he could use it, Angel got both feet up between them and kicked with all his strength. The axe clattered to the floor as Spike went flying through the air, landing agonizingly on the short flight of steps leading to the sewer access trapdoor across the room.

Just then, a flurry of footsteps could be heard overhead, and then Wesley, Doyle, and Cordelia all burst into view on the staircase. Wesley carried a crossbow, Doyle a morning star, and Cordelia a stake. Spike looked from them to Angel and back before giving a snarl of frustration and slipping through the trapdoor and out of sight.

"Angel, are you all right?" said Wesley, leading the way towards him.

"I'm fine," said Angel, allowing Wesley to help him to his feet and wincing. He looked at Doyle and Cordelia, then raised his eyebrows at Wesley, who didn't appear abashed in the slightest.

"Did you honestly think I wouldn't rally the troops after the way that call ended?" he said.

"Yeah, we appreciate the concern, man, but there's no reason to fight alone," said Doyle.

"Um," said Cordelia, staring at the trapdoor, stake still raised, "do we need to go after Spike?"

"No," said Angel, following her gaze, "he's long gone by now."

* * *

Okay, after Spike actually succeeded in staking Angel two chapters ago (even if it didn't work), it was nice to be able to write Angel beating him up and getting in a few good taunts. So yeah, that's pretty much all there is to "In the Dark", since the ring is busted and Spike knows it. The next chapter is one I've actually had mostly written since spring of 2011, so that should be up very soon.


	10. Breakfast of Champion

I give **Kairos Impending** full credit for the awesome title. This chapter isn't set during any canon episodes, it's just between "In the Dark" and "Fear, Itself".

* * *

Late on Saturday morning, Buffy stretched and rolled over, one arm roving the mattress in search of Angel, but he wasn't there. She opened her eyes blearily and looked around what she could see of the apartment. He was nowhere in sight. Frowning, she reached over the edge of the bed, snatched his black button-up shirt from the floor, put it on, then walked towards the kitchen, planning to raid the fridge. Angel had already repaired the damage Spike had done and replaced everything he broke by the time she arrived the previous evening.

When the kitchen table came into view, Buffy stopped, a huge smile lighting her face. On its surface lay a plate with a tall stack of pancakes and a few strips of bacon, a bowl of strawberries, a glass of orange juice, and a slip of paper. The pancakes were still steaming. Buffy walked over and picked up the paper.

_Had to finish up a few things with Rachel's case. Enjoy breakfast. –A_

Her smile widening, she sat down and dug in. Everything was delicious. The pancakes were fluffy, smothered in butter, and drowning in syrup just like she liked them, and the bacon was as crispy as it could be without being burned. It didn't take her long to eat all of it, and she washed her dishes before heading to the wardrobe, about a third of which was reserved for her stuff. She paused for a moment, considering her options, before deciding on her white off-the-shoulder peasant top and nicely swishy knee-length brown skirt, then headed to the bathroom to shower, thinking vaguely that she might join Angel upstairs if she was done getting ready before he came back.

She took her time, enjoying the lack of urgency to getting ready on a non-school day. She had just finished brushing her teeth and arranging her hair into the half-up look that had recently become her favorite style, and she was about to start on makeup when she felt a pair of arms wrap around her waist from behind. She closed her eyes and smiled, leaning back against Angel's solid torso. "Good morning," she said, intertwining her fingers with his. "Thanks for breakfast."

"I'm glad you liked it," he said.

"So how'd everything go with the case? It's finished?"

"Yeah. Lenny's not getting out of jail early this time, and Rachel's doing fine."

"And that was the only case you had?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"No cases and it's Saturday. So everyone else is home, and we have the rest of the day free?"

"The rest of the weekend," he corrected. "Remember what we talked about a few weeks ago?" he asked. His suddenly low, rumbling tone told her that all of her careful morning preparation work would soon be undone, and yet she couldn't bring herself to care in the slightest. The unfortunate side effect was that it was very difficult to concentrate on his actual words.

"Hmm?" she said, reaching up and behind her with one hand so that it could roam across the side of his face and around to the back of his neck. "We talked about a lot of things. You're gonna have to be more specific." She was fascinated by the picture they made in the mirror, given that she was the only one with a reflection.

Angel complied with her request by pulling her closer to him and pressing his lips to the raised skin of her scar. Her breath hitched and her knees turned to jelly. She was too caught up in enjoying the sensation to realize what he was trying to tell her until he nipped at the spot with his teeth.

"Oh, _that_ thing," she said once she had regained the ability to think and speak coherently. She turned around in his arms so that she could look at him. "I really hope I was supposed to take that as an 'I want to try it.' Otherwise, these tactics are completely misleading and I'm going to have to introduce you to the correct method of letting the girl down easy."

"If you still want to, I think I'm ready to give it a shot," he said earnestly.

"How'd you get to that point from where you were?"

"I decided it's worth finding out if this is something I can handle. Never trying would be safer, but then we'd never know if we were missing this unnecessarily."

"Wise decision."

"I have a couple of conditions, though. I don't want us to take any more chances than we have to."

†

The L.A. apartment was softly lit with the warm glow of candles placed on various surfaces. Angel sat cross-legged in the middle of the bed with Buffy seated in his lap facing him. Beside them on the ornate counterpane, within easy reach of her right hand, lay a large wooden cross. On the other side was a thin-glassed vial of holy water.

"Are you okay?" Buffy asked tentatively. Angel didn't show the same signs of nervousness that a human would. He did not perspire, she was close enough to him to tell that his breathing (something he had told her he mostly did out of habit and an unexplainable need for some kind of internal rhythm, even if it was only artificial) was steady and even, and of course his pulse couldn't race because he didn't have one, but his anxiety had made itself known to her in other ways. She could feel the tremor in his hands, which were resting lightly against her lower back, and there was a certain tautness in his expression, particularly around his mouth.

"Terrified," he said.

His admission somehow quelled the butterflies of anxiety that had begun to stir in Buffy's stomach. She lifted a hand to the side of his face. He was still slightly warmer than room temperature from the two large glasses of reheated pigs' blood he'd drunk five minutes before as an added precaution. "We don't have to," she said. "It's not like your life depends on it this time."

Angel closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, he met her gaze directly. "Do you want me to?"

Buffy nodded, maintaining eye contact.

"Are you _sure_?"

"Yes."

"Then I will," he said. "But you have to promise me that if you change your mind or have had enough or you even _think_ that I might be losing control, you won't hesitate to do everything you can to stop me."

She leaned in and brushed her lips against his. "I promise," she breathed. She resumed the kiss, which deepened. She wrapped her arms around his neck and raked her fingers through his hair. Soon, she felt some of the tension leave him. His left hand roamed up to the small of her back and pressed her closer to him, while his right lifted and tunneled through her hair. His lips left hers and began to leave a trail of open-mouthed kisses that ended at her tingling scar. She tilted her head to the side, giving him better access.

Angel was determined to make this as painless as possible for her, particularly because, in his delirium, he had failed to do so the first time, but also because less pain tended to mean a cleaner wound that would heal more quickly. For a long moment, all he did was kiss her scar. Eventually, the lure of the blood already pooling beneath the skin from his attentions made the shift to demonic features automatic.

Expecting the pain to be as sharp and searing as last time, Buffy almost didn't realize that he had actually sunk his fangs into her neck at first, but then her blood hit his tongue and she gasped as the connection between them exploded like floodgates bursting off their hinges. Whatever pain there had been, if there really had been any, was lost in the powerful flow. All of a sudden, she no longer knew where she ended and he began, and she could feel everything he was feeling. She arched into him and clung to him with all of her strength in an effort to be even closer.

Even though Angel had just fed, it was only his desire to savor this and make it last as long as possible that prevented him from drinking as greedily as he had the first time. Not being weak and fever-crazed also did wonders for his self-control. He pulled deep mouthfuls of her smooth, metallic blood, rolling it slowly over his tongue. As incomparable as the taste was, it was still only the least remarkable part of the experience. It felt like he was touching her soul. He could feel what she felt as if they were one being. Her joy to be giving him yet another precious gift—and that he had _let_ her give it—was his, too.

Neither of them wanted to stop, but they knew they had to. At this point, he hadn't taken enough to cause worse adverse effects than very slight lightheadedness and cold tingles in her fingers and toes. Much more, and she would start feeling drowsy, which was definitely not something he wanted. He swallowed one last mouthful and withdrew, finding it much easier to do than the first time. Evidently his mental preparation beforehand had paid off. He resisted the urge to lick the wound clean, knowing that for him to do so would only make it keep bleeding longer. Now that there was no suction to coax more blood to the surface, it had already mostly stopped.

Panting as heavily as she was, Angel lifted his head enough to rest his forehead against hers. Before long, Buffy felt it become smooth as his features faded back into human ones. Their bodies were still singing, and Angel's was fairly vibrating from the power of her blood. They pulled back slightly so they could look at each other. They didn't need words; a single glance said it all. A second later, they were kissing fiercely.

The wooden cross clattered to the floor, followed by the vial of holy water, which smashed, and the dripping glass fragments were soon covered by various articles of discarded clothing.

* * *

*blushes* I can't believe I actually wrote a bite scene from start to finish. Anyway, I had a theory when I was working on this that vampires can control how much pain their bites cause. I mean, vampire bats in real life are so sneaky when they latch onto cows that the cows don't even feel the bites. Being sadistic monsters, vampires would generally go for the maximum pain, but it's possible that they could reduce it if they tried. Their fangs are sharp enough that if they were careful, they could bite down without causing much pain at all. For example, Buffy looked like she was in a lot of pain when the Master bit her, but not so much when Dracula did. Also, I think it's likely (or at least that it would be really cool if it were true) that vampires can actually feel their victims' fear and pain when they bite them (a creature with no soul and therefore no empathy would revel in that), and the victims can feel the sadistic glee of the vampires biting them, which horrifies and frightens them even more, causing the effect to build and build for as long as the bite lasts. In this case, Angel doesn't want to hurt Buffy, and she isn't afraid, so the emotional link during the bite would be much different than anything Angel remembers experiencing as Angelus.


	11. Jack-o-Lanterns

Sorry it's been so long since the last update on this one. And to readers of my other fics, I haven't abandoned them, I'm just kind of overwhelmed with all my homework and my job. Also, there's a chance I might have landed a job as an editor as well, which, while awesome, would make it even harder to find time to write. Luckily, my advanced fiction professor doesn't check what we write in our writing journals (which we have to write three pages in daily), so I've been using that to outline and draft my fanfiction. I plan to update "The Slayer and His Vampire", then "Truth", then "Season 9". The IWRY marathon is coming up soon, though, so my normal updates might be put on hold a little longer so I can get my submissions for that finished.

Anyway, this chapter commences my AU version of "Fear, Itself", now with 50% more Angel.

* * *

The strangest part of being with Buffy for Angel was how he was occasionally part of a package deal. Usually, she would clear her schedule on their weekends together and it would be just the two of them, but sometimes, as had been the case the weekend of the frat party, he got sucked into her social life, where he was never quite sure what to do with himself.

"Vampires stay in on Halloween," he reminded her.

"And you can!" she said. "The party is tomorrow night, which is the thirtieth."

He tried a different approach. "You really want to go to a scary house? You fight the real thing every night."

"Oh, I know the scary house will be totally lame, but that's how you get to the _party_, where there will be food and fun."

He sighed in defeat. "I'm not wearing a costume," he said before she could get any ideas.

"No problem," said Xander, causing both of them to jump and look around. They'd almost forgotten that they were in Xander's basement, that Xander, Willow, and Oz were all still present, and that all three were staring at them in mild amusement over the tops of half-finished Jack-o-lanterns. "All you have to do is go in vampface," Xander was saying. He snapped his fingers. "Instant costume."

"Just as long as none of the more hammered partiers tries to take off the mask," said Oz.

"Fine," said Buffy, still talking to Angel, "you don't have to wear a costume." She looked sideways at him. "_This _year."

Angel grimaced, but chose to focus on his own Jack-o-lantern rather than reply.

"What kind of face does yours have?" asked Willow, craning around to see Buffy's pumpkin. Buffy obligingly spun it around. "It looks afraid," Willow observed, eyebrows raised.

Buffy shrugged. "After angry, that's the expression I remember best from demons."

"Yours is a demon pumpkin?" said Willow. "Mine is friendly. See?" She turned hers around to face Buffy. "No fangs—uh, no offense, Angel—"

"None taken."

"And it has happy eyes and a nice smile," Willow went on. "I figure we deal with enough demons."

Xander looked from one Jack-o-lantern to the other, then turned a rueful eye on his own attempt. "I was going for ferocious, scary, but it's coming out more dryly sardonic."

Willow leaned over to look. "It does appear to be mocking you with its eye holes."

"Yet the nose hole seems sad and full of self-loathing," said Oz thoughtfully.

"What's yours, Oz?" said Willow.

"Guitar."

"Ooh, really?"

Xander looked skeptically at the pumpkin in question, which merely had a large triangle cut out of one side. "Uh, you sure about that? It looks more like a guitar _pick_."

"It's minimalist," said Oz. He considered for a moment. "And abstract."

Everyone turned and looked expectantly at Angel, who hadn't so much as glanced up from his pumpkin carving for the entirety of this conversation. It took him at least ten seconds to feel all their eyes on him. He looked up briefly. "What?" he said, already back at work.

"Well, we all showed ours," said Willow.

"Yeah, come on, what did you do for yours?" said Xander.

"I'm not done."

"So? You can show us and then finish it. Buffy, help us out here."

Buffy shook her head, trying not to laugh. "Come on, guys, you know you can't rush an artist."

Xander rolled his eyes but offered no further argument.

"Okay…there," said Angel about a minute later, and turned the pumpkin around. Willow's and Xander's mouths fell open in amazement, Buffy let out a gasp of delight, and Oz was so impressed that he actually raised his eyebrows.

"It's beautiful, Angel," said Buffy, scooting closer so she could snuggle up to him.

"It's for you," he said. She kissed him to show her thanks.

"Hey hey, get a room, you two," said Xander, "a room that isn't _my_ room."

"Okay!" said Buffy brightly, jumping up and pulling Angel after her by a handful of the front of his button-up shirt. "See you guys later. We'll be at the apartment if you need us." She froze and looked back at them. "Try not to need us, though."

"I knew this would happen," said Xander grumpily, once they had left and he was sure Angel was out of earshot. "I can't believe I invited him into my house."

Willow was still staring at Angel's Jack-o-lantern. He had carved a blooming rose surrounded by vines twisted in the shapes of Celtic knotting. "It's just not fair," she said, pouting. "That was his first Jack-o-lantern? I mean, how did he even get that good at making art with knives, anyway?"

"Considering his backstory, I'm guessing we're better off not knowing," said Oz.

†

"I can't believe you thought this was our best option," said Buffy as she side-stepped a puddle of ick on the sewer floor. She and Angel were on their way to her house to pick up her Red Riding Hood costume and spend some time with her mom, but as it was broad daylight without so much as a cloud in sight, they'd taken an alternative route. Angel carried a sword in one hand and had a thick blanket tucked under the other arm for when they emerged onto Revello Drive, and Buffy was idly rotating a stake in her right hand. "We could have just taken your car."

"You don't have a license and I don't want to have to huddle under a blanket in the back seat," said Angel flatly.

"It's not like I'd have been navigating L.A. rush hour traffic," said Buffy. "Sunnydale is pretty comatose on Saturday mornings."

Angel said nothing. Buffy watched him shrewdly. "You don't trust me with your car, do you?" she accused.

"Buffy, the last time you were behind a wheel, you crashed your mom's Jeep."

"How do you know about that?" she said indignantly. "You were still in the Council's dungeon then!"

"Willow mentioned it a while ago."

Buffy huffed. "That wasn't even my fault! A couple of those crazy teenage adults decided to have a race at a stop light and one of them ran into me."

"Fine, but you still have to pass a driving test before you can drive the GTX."

"What about you? You don't even legally exist. Do you have a license?"

"I've been driving since before the Model T came out, and I've never been pulled over. Having a license is pretty much meaningless at this stage."

Buffy pouted in silence for a moment while they kept walking. "Are we getting close to Revello Drive now?" she asked after they turned yet another corner in the maze-like tunnels.

"Yeah," said Angel, but then he suddenly fell back, head turned to the side.

"What is it?"

"There's someone else down here," he said.

"Someone?" Buffy repeated. "Not some_thing_?"

"No, I can hear the heartbeats. At least three. And from the footsteps, they sound like they're in combat boots." His brow furrowed in deep concentration while he listened. Then he looked at Buffy, held a finger to his lips, and gestured upward to the tunnel ceiling, along which several large pipes ran. Silently, they both leapt up and braced themselves between the pipes. Buffy had needed to stash her stake down the back of her jeans to free her hands first, but Angel somehow managed it while keeping his hold on his sword and the blanket. Once they were in position, they were completely cloaked in shadow.

A few seconds later, Buffy could hear them too, and then they rounded a corner and walked into her and Angel's tunnel. They were definitely human, and they were dressed in military gear and carrying what looked like rifles. Buffy tried to exchange a baffled glance with Angel, but he was looking at the army guys with narrowed eyes. She looked back at them too. She might have thought that they were just a bunch of frat boy idiots from school playing games, but they moved like real soldiers, and their equipment looked real. In fact, she was pretty sure they were wearing night vision goggles. Luckily, they didn't look up.

When they were directly underneath Buffy and Angel, the one in the middle held up a hand and they all stopped. Buffy tensed, but the middle guy merely clicked on the radio attached to what looked like a bullet-proof vest. "Sector seven looks clear," he said. Buffy frowned. His voice sounded familiar, but she couldn't remember where she'd heard it before. "Should we make another sweep? Over."

"Negative," came the crackly reply. "The squad in sector three needs backup. They found a nest. Over."

"Copy that," said the middle guy before clicking the radio off again.

"I wonder what kind of nest," said the guy on the left.

"Let's find out," said the middle guy. "Move out."

With that, they turned around, shouldered their weapons, and trotted off down the tunnel. Once the sound of their boots faded, Buffy dropped back onto the tunnel floor. Angel landed beside her while she was stretching the kinks out of her muscles. "Who do you think those guys were?" she said quietly.

"Military," said Angel. "Probably working for some covert government operation that deals with demons."

"Those exist?" said Buffy incredulously.

"I had a run-in with one during World War II."

"Really?" said Buffy, intrigued.

"Yeah. They showed up at my place and made me go rescue some soldiers who infiltrated and took over a German sub without realizing it was full of vampires the Germans had captured. One of them was Spike."

Buffy snorted. "Seriously? What, did they trick him into thinking he was going to a free virgin blood party or something?"

"Yep."

She snickered some more about that, then sobered. "So, demon-hunting army guys in Sunnydale," she said, frowning. "I guess I shouldn't really be surprised. It's not the first time I've run into that kind of thing. There were those Secret Service-looking guys who took Marcie away."

"The invisible girl?"

"Yeah. No idea where they took her. I never saw them sneaking around again after that. But it looks like these new guys have really set up shop. Sectors? Squads? This could make patrolling a little tricky."

* * *

This chapter was kind of light and silly, but that will all change when they get to the Halloween party. If that spell could almost make Oz transform, what might it do to Angel?


End file.
